


VENM (Venom) Volume 1: Powder Kegs of Beacon

by DiomedesofAnima



Series: Team VENM [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant, Enough angst and edginess to fill an early 2000's Sasuke uchiha RP board, LGBTQ+ characters, Multi, OC Team, Sort Of, Spoilerific, Team VENM, it's gonna get dark, not gonna lie, post-volume 3 canon-divergent, the writer is a smartass, volume one of many to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 19:45:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiomedesofAnima/pseuds/DiomedesofAnima
Summary: Verris Emedio. Eliza Aurum. Nero Boudica. Marcus Avalok. The members of Team VENM couldn't be a more volatile mix, but with Beacon Academy being the fresh start they all so desperately want, they'll have to make it work. But with three hotheads and one hopeless optimist, none can say for sure how this will turn out (except the author, because that's kind of my job here).





	1. Prologue: The Half-Faunus

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: RWBY is property of Roosterteeth, Monty Oum (Rest In Peace), Kerry Shawcross, Miles Luna, and the show’s true owners and creators/ other legally entitled parties. The following is entirely a fan-created work conceived in respect for the property and those listed above, and the author establishes no claim to any profits or ownership over any element of the show’s material. Any chapter which features original fan-made characters will contain a section of proper attribution to the author or creators of said characters at the end of the chapter they are introduced within. Team VENM consists of original, fan-made characters not canon to the official property. Thank you, and please support the official RWBY series ( but not by leaking episodes, seriously, they need revenue to keep the show going).  
> -Diomedes of Anima
> 
> A Note from the Author: Hey everyone. With that lengthy disclaimer out of the way (BizLaw classes really push some insistent habits on people), I’d like to say that this is my first attempt at an actual fanfiction of any kind, although it is not my first attempt at writing. Team VENM (pronounced as Venom) was conceived by myself, and two close friends in the wake of Volume Three’s amazing but horrifying finale. The following story will follow VENM through the events of Volume One to Volume Three as established pre-emptively with some tweaks here and there, but the following four volumes will be entirely based in fan theory, conjecture, and speculation (somewhere, an English major is smirking at that sentence padding). With all of that out of the way, let’s get right into it. Enjoy!  
> An additional note: I've included the ship tags for Arkos and Bumbleby, but these ships will come into focus later on in the story. Don't worry, once Volume 2 rolls out, expect plenty of wholesome Arkos and Bumbleby goodness.  
> Content Warnings for this Chapter: Familial Abuse/ Violence, Strong Language  
> ________________________________________________________________________________

                The boy sat hunched over on the locker room bench, clenching and unclenching his fists anxiously. Outside, the Sanctum crowds were gathered eagerly to witness the final stage of the Mistral Regional Tournament. So far, he had battered and clawed his way up the brackets to reach the top, but his rival, the one obstacle between him and a safe return home, was the crowd favorite.

                Her name was Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl, and he hated her.

                                The boy, named Verris Emedio, had trained for months to prepare himself for a battle with her specifically. Everyone else in the tournament was merely a coincidence to him, and they knew it. He had by no means sought to make a name or a reputation for himself at Sanctum, having kept quiet and exceptionally reserved during the entirety of his three years there, but the silent obsession he had in chasing the top slot in every class and field of study granted him some level of acknowledgement among his classmates at the least. Additionally, having the ‘great’ Aethyr Emedio, the school’s combat instructor, for a mother didn’t hurt his image. At least, not among others.

                Tufts of lime green hair peeked out from beneath his yellow baseball cap, the mess partially obscuring his icy blue eyes and their slightly elliptical pupils. His black t-shirt was completely concealed underneath a layer of body armor, wrapped in a knee-length white trench coat with armored shoulders and forearms. On the back of the coat was a symbol the same lime-green as his hair: a hexagonal gem, bisected by a downward-pointing longsword. It was his family crest, left over from much more proud times for the Emedio line. Like his trench coat, his white jeans were armored as well, at both the knees and the shins. His shoes were buffed by grip-textured metal soles, which made a slight clanking whenever he walked. Everywhere he went, Verris looked ready for war, and he was, although not in the conventional sense.

                The crowd continued roaring outside, cheering for the next match to begin. He braced himself, gripping his greatsword, Vosgedge, all the more tightly. The green blade glowed a brilliant blue from three gaps along the length, where a Dust-based flamethrower was hidden between the interlocked pieces. The handle itself was surrounded by a circular guard; all Verris would need to do is twist the handle, and the blade would open up to expose the weapon inside. It was the one small comfort he had in his life, this weapon. It was the one thing he could trust to protect him and never betray him.

                The crowd was getting louder, and Verris heard his name announced over the speaker. He took a deep breath, readying himself for the fight before him…

 

_The Emedio household, three years ago…_

“Again, boy!” Aethyr shouted at her son, using her semblance to compel Verris to get back on his feet.

                Before her…downward spiral, Aethyr almost never used her semblance, Fear, on anyone. It allowed her to not control, but so completely terrify anyone in earshot that they would either run or obey. But now, with the fractured and twisted mind she had, it was just another tool needing her hand.

                Verris struggled back to his feet, his icy-blue eyes wide in fear of the woman before him. Her wrist mounted flail dragged heavily across the ground as she reeled it back in.

                “You called that trying harder? You’re holding back and I know it, brat!” she barked, readying herself for another fight. “That red-haired bitch is going to walk all over you for the rest of your days at this rate, and it’ll be your fault, you monster.”

                Verris stifled the urge to cringe at the last word, which stung like a needle in his chest. He couldn’t understand how Aethyr had grown to hate Faunus so much, but all of it was constantly directed at him for being even half-Faunus. She was the reason he kept his cat’s ears hidden beneath a hat every day, and his tail concealed.

                Still, Verris readied his blade, feeling the bruises as they began forming on his arms and legs. His aura was already depleted, he knew that, but Aethyr wouldn’t risk anything stupid.

                “Again, boy!”

                                He charged headlong at Aethyr, the blade angled downward for a diagonal slash as the tip sent sparks flying into the air. The distance between them was closing rapidly…

                _CRACK!_

                                Verris regained consciousness on his back, with a horrid pain in his left leg. He couldn’t feel anything below the knee, but from the knee up felt like fire. He looked down, his head throbbing, and saw Aethyr standing beside a hospital bed, explaining with tear-filled eyes how her son had stepped in front of a car before she could stop him. The doctors were all very reassuring, trying their best to assuage her tears while the others worked on Verris. The lead doctor, realizing he was awake, knelt by Verris’ side.

                “Hey kid, how’re you feeling?” he asked. “You took a nasty hit, by the look of things.”

                                Verris was silent, trying to lift his head and get a good look at his leg, but the doctor eased him back onto the mattress.

                “Hey, Verris, can you hear me? I need to know how you’re feeling,” the doctor repeated. “C’mon, kid, answer me.”

                “I can’t feel my leg,” Verris replied truthfully. “My head hurts a lot, but I can’t even feel my leg.”

                                The doctor nodded with a guilty look on his face. “Well, you’re gonna pull through, but I need you to listen to me. Please stay calm.”

                Verris nodded, his eyes on Aethyr’s warning glare that said _don’t you tell them a thing._

                                “The accident damaged your left leg too much to save it. We…we had to amputate it below the knee.”

 

_Present day, the Arena_

 

                Verris strode quietly into the ring, a dour look on his face. In his head, he was already running through the pre-battle checklist for the seventh time.

                _Okay, I refilled the Dust canister. My armor’s been repaired since last week. Vosgedge is running properly and I’ve tested it out twice before now. My leg’s motors are all functioning as expected…I should be fine._

Still, Verris couldn’t help but worry about the possibility of his robotic left leg acting up at the wrong moment. This was not a fight he could afford to lose, not against her. Every time Pyrrha outperformed him, Aethyr was angry when he got home…

                She got violent when she was angry…

                                Verris shook his head like the intruding panic was just a fly to be shaken off, standing before his opponent as silent as the grave.

                Her bronze armor seemed to gleam with genuine warmth from every rivet and plate, unlike the cold shine of Verris’ own. A golden circlet, shaped like a crown of laurels, wreathed her crimson hair like flames, a stark contrast to the vibrant green of her eyes. If she were anyone but someone better than him, Verris might’ve viewed her differently. Instead, all he could think of was how her victories cost him so much.

                Pyrrha offered a hand, maybe as a show of sportsmanship, but her eyes betrayed the knowledge that Verris would not shake it. She was right of course; he simply glared at her and adopted a fighting stance, his blade angled down by his left side as his thumb grazed the flame trigger.

                Pyrrha sighed, readying her hoplite shield and spear as the announcer began the countdown.

                                “3…2…1…begin!”

 

_The Emedio Household, two months prior…_

Verris sat at his desk, one eye swollen shut and beginning to darken as he read over the lines Aethyr had assigned him. Every night, she gave him another sentence to write down over and over until he had filled out ten pages worth of it.

                Tonight’s sentence was: _I should be happy to hide my deformity._

                                The previous night’s sentence was: _Pyrrha is the one who causes me pain._

                Before that: _Aethyr deserves my respect._

Every night was an act in self-deprecation for Verris, and tonight was no different. Every time he stopped to place a period at the end of the sentence, he felt his attention drawn to the green-furred cat ears which poked out above his hair. He hadn’t always been ashamed of them; his father had told him they were special, that they were gifts. But Sear Emedio was gone now, and the only traces left of him were the Faunus traits he passed to Verris, and the Emedio family semblance, Iron-Skin.

                _I should be happy to hide my deformity_ , Verris wrote for what, by his count, was the twenty-seventh time. It was nine in the evening, and Remnant’s shattered moon hung low over the horizon of Mistral. To the West, Verris knew another kingdom awaited; Vale.

                He smiled despite his injuries. He had been so incredibly careful in hiding his correspondence with that Kingdom’s school headmaster, Professor Ozpin. Even if it had been just one letter sent and another received, Verris was proud of how he managed to keep it a secret from the all-knowing Aethyr.

                Most people were scouted by Beacon Academy for attendance; it was perhaps the only academy in the Four Kingdoms which sought applicants from outside its own national borders, and arguably the best academy. But Verris had sent in a request of admittance directly to the Headmaster, trying to make his case as plainly as possible. He wasn’t worried about his performance, but the days he waited for a response were some of the longest he had ever endured. By the time he finally got a letter back, he was worried that it would be a rejection or a “sorry-but-that’s-not-how-this-works” reply. Instead, it contained an airship ticket to Beacon, admittance certificates, and preapproved transcripts from Mistral’s Bureau of Education. He would be leaving immediately after graduation.

                The lines hurt less to write the more Verris thought about that ticket.

                                _I should be happy to hide my deformity…_

_I should be happy to hide my deformity…_

_Present Day, the Arena…_

Verris collapsed to his knees, his aura having finally fallen into the red zone as Pyrrha once again claimed victory in the Mistral Regional Tournament; it was her fourth such victory, and Verris’ fourth such loss.

                She offered him a hand as he knelt in defeat upon the floor, smiling warily at him as if he was a rabid dog that could attack her at any moment. Verris hesitated, glancing at Aethyr’s place in the stands. She was watching, already planning his punishment, no doubt.

                Again, he refused her hand, and wiped the sweat from his face on the back of his own hand. Suddenly, Pyrrha’s face changed to one of shock, and Verris realized his mistake as he saw the concealer makeup that had been smeared off on his hand.

                For the weeks following, people around Sanctum hounded Pyrrha for details about the fight. What did she see that scared her so much? What was Verris like? Had he insulted her at the end of the fight?

                She ignored all of them, the image of a black-eyed and bruised Verris seared into her mind just before he left the arena. She was frozen between calling someone for help and just leaving it alone. It wasn’t her business. She was imagining things. Yeah, that was it.

                No one else had seen Verris leave the household at the end of the week, nor had they seen him arrive at school after that. At graduation, he was nowhere to be found, sparking yet more whispers. Even Aethyr seemed ignorant of his whereabouts.

                The last time anyone saw him in the Kingdom was the day he boarded an airship for Vale, carrying nothing but his armored outfit, a light suitcase of clothes, and his greatsword as he left the place behind for good.

 

**END OF PROLOGUE/ BEGIN VOLUME ONE**

**Original Characters: Aethyr and Verris Emedio, created by Myself.**


	2. Episode One: Landing at Beacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The series kicks off properly with Verris' arrival at Beacon Academy, and his meeting with an armored, unusually optimistic colossus. But despite their eagerness to start their training, are either of them sure of what they want here? Who knows, it's not answered in this chapter. Plus, we get to see what really went down behind the scenes after Ozpin's big speech (sort of).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, most of these chapters might be a bit short, but then again, I have no idea how 7 pages of Microsoft Word translates to AO3 so we'll see.  
> Original Characters: Eliza Aurum and Verris Emedio, created by myself.
> 
> Content Warnings for this Chapter: Eh, none really, maybe just mild language. Consider mild to strong language as a constant warning throughout this series.

                Verris sat quietly at the back of the transport ship, keeping his eyes on the floor as the machine sailed silently through the skies. He had been waiting for this day for what felt like ages, but it had finally arrived. He was on his way to Beacon, the best Huntsman academy in the four kingdoms, and best of all, his mother would have no idea he was there until it was too late for her to stop him.

                He didn’t carry much with him on the transport; he needed to leave quickly and quietly. He had his combat wear, his nicer clothes, and his blade. He could buy the Beacon uniform and supplies once he had landed and gotten settled in.

                The inside of the transport ship was a wide open space, with all seats pushed to the sides to allow for gatherings in the middle. The sensation of heaviness in his footsteps when boarding gave away the artificial Grav-Dust engine that allowed everyone to move around without worrying about their balance while the vehicle was in motion, a subtle touch that he assumed mattered a great deal more to the people chatting excitedly with their soon-to-be classmates.

                As usual, Verris kept his cat’s ears concealed below a baseball cap, although he had ditched the Sanctum hat for something a little less distinctive. It was the same spotless white as his armored duster coat and jeans, but so long as it served its purpose, he couldn’t have cared less about the color. No one needed to know he was a half-breed.

                _Not a half-breed_ , he mentally reminded himself, taking a deep, relaxed breath. _Half-Faunus. Aethyr can’t tell you otherwise. Be proud, but keep low._

It was a strange feeling, getting out from under his mother’s boot. He still felt the compulsion to check over his shoulder every so often to see if she was there, but now, with no need to be afraid, it was just an empty action. He could stop worrying.

                Of course, none of this changed his attitude towards the red-haired girl seated at the opposite corner of the passenger bay, her nose deep in a book since the departure. Pyrrha, of course, just had to select the same combat finishing academy as him. But things would be different now. He’d be better than her. He stood a chance here, now that fear wasn’t driving him to win.

                Still, he felt his tail twitching in agitation where it was wrapped around his waist, so he made sure to keep his thoughts away from her. A whole new world of possibilities was open to him now. He could hunt Grimm like the stories his father always told him about. He could discover new species and their weaknesses, maybe even how to get rid of them entirely. He’d never truly seen a Grimm in the wild, but he knew he was ready. With Vosgedge at his side, he’d be unstoppable.

                Still, he couldn’t help but be painfully aware of how alone he felt on the flight. Everyone was busy chatting up someone else, establishing connections and no doubt forming new friendships while he sat in the corner. One group was fixed around a taller boy with combed back brown hair, a flanged mace resting at his side as he boasted loudly and dragged laughs out of everyone around him. The name ‘Cardin’ had been dropped, but Verris got a bad vibe just from looking at him. The kid was probably one of those people, the ones his mother got along with.

                One of the passengers, a girl dressed in black with a matching bow in her hair, approached so silently that Verris nearly jumped when she tapped him on the shoulder.

                “Excuse me, but do you mind if I sit here?” she asked, her words carefully articulated. “It’s hard to focus with everyone else on the ship being so loud.”

                _Oh, thank Dust, she’s not here to socialize_ , Verris thought with relief, as he smiled and gestured to the seat next to him. “You won’t even know I’m here,” he said. “By all means, go ahead.”

                The girl thanked him and sat down quietly with her duffel bag. Verris closed his eyes and relaxed, thankful that the girl wasn’t one to pester him on the trip. Still, he found himself wondering several new things as the minutes ticked by. Who was this girl? What school did she come from? Why Beacon?

                _She’s not bothering you_ , he reminded himself. _Give her the same courtesy, okay?_

Verris had barely closed his eyes when he was woken up by a voice coming from the ship’s speakers in a very calm, welcoming tone. He saw that each of the windows now displayed a video of a tall blonde woman in glasses, a short cape flowing down behind her as she spoke.

                “To all passengers, good day. My name is Glynda Goodwitch, professor at Beacon Academy and Huntress in service of Vale,” she said. “You and your fellow classmates are among a privileged few selected for admission to our prestigious academy, where you will be formally trained as Huntsmen and Huntresses. Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it will be your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge, and the training, to protect our world.”

                _Well, at least that means I didn’t get selected by luck_ , Verris thought with a smile as he looked out the window.

                “You will be landing shortly at the academy, along with many others from all walks of life, to pursue this noble task you have chosen,” Glynda continued. “At this time, please make sure you have read and understood the list of expectations you received as conditional to your acceptance to the Academy, as these are crucial details for your experience…”

                _Don’t be an ass, follow the rules, get high scores_ , Verris thought, ignoring the rest of the message as he looked for a sign of the academy in the mountains below. _We get it, professor, we’ll…be…fine…_

As the ship crested the next peak, Verris’ jaw dropped at the sight of Beacon Academy, a massive castle overlooking the port city below. Its spires rose dramatically from the elevated plateau it was built on, all connected by tasteful gothic flair and flying buttresses. At the center, a huge clock tower soared above the rest of the building, a green glimmer emanating from the windows. Verris had never seen anything like it, and judging by the reactions of everyone else on board, neither had they.

                As the passengers all crowded to see the castle, Verris saw something else; several other transport ships, each bearing the crest of another kingdom, heading towards the same massive landing area as their own. He tried to count them all, but lost track after he reached fourteen of them, and he finally understood the scale of the academy he had signed up to attend.

                _What have I gotten myself into?_ He wondered, as the ship finally coasted to a halt at the landing pad.

                As he gathered his gear to leave, the girl in black offered her hand, smiling in a way that seemed more formal than friendly.

                “Blake Belladonna,” she said, as Verris shook her hand. “Sorry for not introducing myself earlier.”

                “Verris…just Verris,” he replied after a moment of hesitation. “Nice to meet you.”

                                Before he could say anything else, Blake had already turned to leave, and Verris rolled his eyes. “Why bother introducing yourself if you’re not going to even talk?” he muttered under his breath, making sure she was out of earshot.

                As he took his first steps onto the landing plaza, Verris took a deep breath, and smiled. The cold mountain air was perfect for him, and all of his doubts disappeared as he strode confidently towards the school. Here it was, his fresh start, a place to make a name for himself.

                No sooner had Verris reached the school courtyard than he was knocked off of his feet by a blonde, clanking metal blur, and his vision swam for a second. As he came back to his senses, he saw an absolute giant of a girl reaching down to him, her armored hand practically jabbed into his face.

                “I’m so sorry!” she said quickly, helping Verris back to his feet and then a little bit off of his feet before he found his balance. “I left my luggage on one of these benches, so I panicked, and I mean I really didn’t mean to run into you, but I just didn’t see you and…” she took a deep breath. “Sorry, my name’s Eliza. I didn’t mean to ramble.”

                Verris barely processed her name, between the slight headache he now had, the massive set of armor she was wearing, and how fast she was talking. Eliza towered over him by at least a foot, and her armor probably weighed more than Verris did.

                “You’re fine,” Verris assured her, even though he was still a bit dazed. “What did you lose? Maybe I can help you find it?”

                Before she could respond, there was a sound of splintering wood, and a clang of metal hitting pavement. Eliza winced as she turned around towards a bench that had cracked in half under the weight of a massive golden tower shield.

                “Actually, I just found it,” Eliza said sheepishly, blushing in embarrassment as she walked over to the shield and picked it up with a single hand. “I forget how heavy this thing is sometimes.”

                Verris’ eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the sight. The shield had to be at least six feet tall and a foot thick, yet Eliza carried it like it was just a paperweight. This girl was scary, or would be, if she wasn’t so ridiculously bubbly.

                                _Bubbly,_ Verris mused. _Silly word, but no other way to put it._

                “That’s one hell of a shield,” Verris remarked, whistling a bit. “Is there a sword to go with that?”

                                “Sword? Oh, I don’t have one,” Eliza answered, beaming from ear to ear as the two of them walked calmly away from the destroyed bench, ignoring the staring students. “Lioncrest is all the defense I’ll ever need.”

                _Dust almighty, she uses it like a battering ram_ , Verris realized, feeling suddenly out of his depth at Beacon. “That…is very impressive. I’m Verris, by the way.”

                “Pleasure to meet ya, Verris!” Eliza replied, practically bouncing with every step she took. “Your hat’s about to blow away, in case you didn’t notice.”

                A chill ran down Verris’ spine as he scrambled to put his hat back in place over his cat’s ears, jamming it firmly down before  moving on. “Thanks for that,” he said, his eyes on the cobblestone path. “You’re a lifesaver.”

                “No problem!” Eliza replied, as she held the door to the academy lobby for him. “I mean, I won’t tell anybody if you don’t want people to know about them. I get how it is.”

                “You saw my ears?” Verris asked, his face deep red behind his duster’s collar.

                                “Like I said, if you don’t want people to know, I didn’t see anything,” Eliza whispered. “I’ve got your back, promise.”

                Verris sighed, and relaxed a bit. “Thanks. Just keep it a secret,” he said. “It’s a personal thing.”

                Eliza pantomimed zipping her lips shut before giving him a thumbs-up as they took a seat in the crowd, right next to a pair of students conversing in a distinctly Vacuoan accent. Somewhere, a bell rang, and the crowd went silent as the school’s headmaster, Ozpin, stepped out before them.

                This was the man who had likely saved Verris’ life, and the boy knew it.

                                _I should thank him personally when I get the chance_ , Verris thought. _I owe it to him._

He cast a glance at Eliza, just now noticing how her braided blonde hair reached all the way down to the small of her back. She was nice enough, if clumsy, but as far as Verris saw it, he had just made his first real friend.

 

 

                The speech had just ended, and as the applause died down and students were directed to their temporary sleeping quarters, Ozpin walked calmly to his office. As usual, he had his cane in one hand and a mug of black coffee strong enough to wake the dead in the other. Several of the new students had his interest; so many of them were wildcards, no doubt masking their reasons for choosing such a path in ways that they themselves likely could not recognize.

                That very mystery which surrounded students was what made Ozpin’s job so much more enjoyable than it should’ve been. He could watch them grow from amateur fighters into cohesive and famous teams, forming friendships that would likely last a lifetime. Still, certain of the students always gave him cause for concern…

                _The speech could have been a bit more…optimistically delivered,_ Ozpin thought as he sipped his coffee, the bitter liquid biting at his nerves just the right way to keep him ticking along. He never could understand how Qrow could bear to adulterate the drink with that throat-burning whiskey of his.

                There was a quick, controlled set of footsteps approaching from behind, the clacking noise distinctive of someone wearing heels. Ozpin stopped where he was, allowing Professor Glynda to catch up with him before continuing on his way to the office.

                “That was an…interesting speech,” Glynda stated plainly. “Although perhaps it was not the best one to give to our newest students.”

                “Glynda, you know how bad things are out in the world, and they’re only going to get worse,” Ozpin answered calmly. “We need these children to be prepared for that as Huntsmen and Huntresses. No amount of reassurances can do that.”

                Glynda nodded, and there was silence as the two of them reached an elevator. As they stepped inside, Glynda shuffled through the papers on her clipboard and frowned.

                “Is there something wrong?” Ozpin asked.

                                “Apart from your admitting a girl a year too young for Beacon on a whim? I see five students on our new arrivals list that worry me,” Glynda replied quickly, almost cutting Ozpin off. “Jaune Arc, for one, doesn’t seem anywhere near ready for this school, no matter what his transcripts say. You’ve admitted not one, but two children with prominent White Fang ties, another with what is regarded as one of the most dangerous semblances in existence, and then there’s the matter of…”

                “Verris Emedio, Sear’s child,” Ozpin finished for Glynda, his calm demeanor dropping for a moment. “I was well aware of what repercussions were possible when I accepted his plea for enrollment.”

                “A plea? I’m not sure I understand.”

                                Ozpin took another sip of his coffee. “His scores at Sanctum were second only to Ms. Nikos’, yet he made it very clear that he did not feel happy with the idea of pursuing further education in Mistral, quite possibly for issues in the home,” he said, throwing a knowing glance at Glynda. “For the sake of confidentiality, I won’t tell you the exact reason, but I felt…compelled to accept him here. Aethyr can huff and puff all she likes.”

                “Typical,” Glynda muttered under her breath.

                                “And as for those other four, don’t judge them too harshly yet. Ties are not loyalties, powers are not personalities, and first appearances…well, let Jaune show us what he can do.”

                Glynda simply rolled her eyes as the elevator doors opened onto a massive office with clockwork clanking away overhead. Ozpin simply sipped his coffee quietly, as he always did.

                These students, despite what he told Glynda, were worrying him more than most did.

 


	3. Episode Two: Countdown to Launch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verris and Eliza become acquainted with a pair from Vacuo, Nero and Marcus, and prepare themselves for the test. The next morning, Eliza manages to uncover just a bit more of Verris' past, right before the test...
> 
> Original Characters: Eliza Aurum and Verris Emedio by myself, Nero Boudica by R., and Marcus Avalok by L.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear we'll be getting into the actual meat of the story soon here, but I gotta do build up (you know I have to do it to them). And because I failed to post this in the prologue notes, I'll be writing each volume in one big block and then basically dumping all chapters in the volume on AO3 at once. So it might be a while before V2 is written, but don't worry, it'll happen. I'm not gonna leave you all hanging.  
> Yes, Nero and Marcus are the Aussie kind of Vacuoan, but the profanity was already going to be ratcheting up significantly in following chapters without that.
> 
> Content Warnings: Mild Language.

                Verris and Eliza had already claimed a space by the window of the massive ballroom, which had been filled with sleeping bags for the night until the first years received their team assignments. There would be a trial of some sort in the morning to take care of that, or so Verris had heard.

                That part worried him. Verris wasn’t used to the idea of working with a team. Then again…

                                _I’ve never really had a chance to do anything as part of a group_ , he admitted to himself. _This could be a good thing. I just hope I don’t have to lead._

Already he had lost track of the new names he had to remember. He and Eliza had run into so many students in the few short hours since arrival that he had given up trying to memorize anything for the time being. Only a couple of names stuck; Blake Belladonna (from the flight over), and Ruby Rose, if only for the fact that she seemed a bit young to be attending Beacon. Either something was wrong, or scarily right, about her.

                They had met Ruby’s sister for a moment as well, but Verris didn’t catch her name. She and Eliza had hit it off immediately; he could always ask her. She seemed way more social than he was.

                “So,” Eliza started, wearing pajamas with fuzzy rabbit feet that made her look completely different from the armored giant Verris had met. “What do you think the test is?”

                Verris shrugged as he adjusted the black beanie on his head. “Maybe it’s a tournament?” he suggested. “Find the people who are matched in combat and team them up?”

                Eliza wrinkled her nose for a moment, and then smiled: it seemed to be her default setting. “That sounds pretty helpful, now that you mention it,” she said. “Who do you think you’d be matched against? Anyone strike you as able to tie you in a fight?”

                On instinct, Verris’ eyes scoured the room for Pyrrha, and he felt a knot in his stomach. _Like hell, I’m going to ever team up with her,_ he thought, silently praying he was wrong about his guess. “I guess I don’t know anyone here well enough to answer,” Verris lied. “Then again, I’m just guessing at the test. I’m probably wrong.”

                _Man, I hope I’m wrong._

“I heard they launch ya through the air off a catapult, and you’ve gotta make your way back to the school on foot,” someone else piped up, a distinct Vacuoan twang in their voice. “Whoever makes it back first chooses their teammates.”

                Verris and Eliza looked up to see the two Vacuoan students from earlier, both carrying duffel bags over their shoulders. The one speaking had messy brown hair that stretched down to his shoulders, gold eyes, and a smirk that oozed with self-aware cockiness. He was thin, probably a runner, but something about him said he could easily hold his own in a fight. His friend was much quieter, with wolfish ears sticking straight up from his brown hair and a somewhat gangly gait in his step. Verris felt a twinge of repulsion as he saw the Faunus ears, and then guilt; Aethyr was still messing with his head, even with as far away as he had traveled.

                “That sounds a bit crazy,” Eliza answered, an eyebrow raised. “I mean, we could all probably pull it off, but I don’t think they’d do something that dangerous right off the bat, would they? Should one of us talk to the professors and just make sure or is that going too far…”

                “Eliza, you can take a breath,” Verris joked, surprised with how much more frequently he was smiling in just one day at Beacon. “At the very least try speaking with a comma, okay?”

                Eliza shot him a quick glare, but nodded in agreement. “Sorry, I ramble when I get excited,” she said before turning to the other two. “We sat next to each other at the speech, didn’t we? Sorry for not introducing ourselves, I’m Eliza, and this is…”

                “Verris, right?” the talkative one interrupted. “Sorry. I overheard your names earlier. Something about one of you with a shield and that broken bench out front?”

                Eliza quickly squeaked out something that sounded like “Meep!” as her face flushed red, and Verris nodded.

                “You should see the shield, it’s crazy,” he commented. “Crazy in a good way, I mean. I guarantee you’ve never seen anything like it.”

                “I’ll take your word for it,” the boy said with a laugh. “Name’s Marcus, and my friend here is Nero. You mind if we take the sleeping bags next to you? We’d rather not crash next to the racist bros over there.”

                “Cardin Winchester,” Eliza said quickly, her smile dropping as she glared in the direction Marcus was pointing. “Make yourself at home. I don’t like him either.”

                “You met him already?” Marcus asked as he dropped his bag and got settled in.

                                “Just after the speech, yeah,” Eliza answered. “Made some comment about a girl with antlers and I ended the conversation pretty quick.”

                Nero cracked a smile at that, but stayed silent as he nestled inside of his sleeping bag. Marcus just nodded in approval.

                “Thanks, guys,” he said, stretching for a moment before plopping unceremoniously down on the floor. “You two excited for tomorrow?”

                “Definitely,” Eliza and Verris both replied, and Marcus laughed.

                                “Dang, no hesitation there, I see,” he said. “I just hope they let us have a say in the process.”

                “You two hoping to land on the same team?” Verris asked him, casting another glance at Nero.

                                “Yeah, pretty much,” Marcus replied, yawning loudly. “We work well together. Been pretty much joined at the hip for years.”

                “Well, best of luck to you both, then,” Verris said. “We should all get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be interesting.”

                “Yeah,” Marcus replied. “See you guys in the morning.”

                                As the hall’s lights began dimming out one by one, Marcus remained wide awake, his eyes fixed on the shattered moon outside. He’d learned how to be a good actor, but he couldn’t suppress the worry in the back of his head that he’d land on a team with someone else, someone like Cardin, even. Just the thought of that guy made his skin crawl.

                He’d come to the school for Nero just as much as himself. They both needed a fresh start, away from the kingdom they’d left behind, and Beacon was the only option that made sense. They could affect real change someday as Huntsmen.

                _I’ve got your back, mate_ , he thought as he felt Nero’s hand slip into his own. _Nothing can stop us now._

 

The next morning,

 

                The morning sun was only just starting to shine in through the locker room windows as Eliza strapped her armor on. The weight of the metal was comforting, like a blanket draped over her shoulders, and she sighed in satisfaction as she finished up securing the last strap on her pauldrons.

                When she started wearing armor, it had taken her ages to suit up, and she usually needed a helping hand on top of that. But years of going through the motions allowed her to gear up on her own in minutes without a single mistake.

                The locker room itself was more of a split armory, a place for the students to keep weaponry and other gear in between training sessions. Dressing stalls were available for students as well, but Eliza didn’t need them.

                She and Verris were both early risers, as it turned out, and headed to the armory together a bit early just to make sure they were prepared for the coming test. According to their Beacon emails, they were to be present at the forest edge behind Beacon at ten in the morning, although the test itself was still unclear.

                Eliza checked her scroll; the clock said it was nine-twenty, enough time to run a system check on Lioncrest. She reached into her locker for the shield and strapped it to her left arm before testing her motion. Nothing creaked or felt out of place, so she was in the clear. The ammo display for Lioncrest’s hidden function seemed good to go as well, although she really hoped she wouldn’t need it.

                Satisfied with her gear, as she always was, she headed over to meet back up with Verris. Part of her was honestly hoping to land on a team with him, but she got the feeling he was hiding more than just his Faunus status from people. He still hadn’t told her his last name or where he was from; maybe home was the problem?

                _That’s not my business_ , she told herself, frowning a bit at her rudeness. _Let’s just wish him luck and see how this test goes for everyone. I’ve got a family to make proud._

Eliza turned a corner and spotted Verris hunched over in his seat, tinkering with something. He was already decked out in the same armored duster and jeans as yesterday, but he was missing his hat. His hair, emerald-green and just a bit messy, was the same color as the cat’s ears he had flattened against his head, and the matching tail Eliza noticed twitching a bit behind white coattails.

                She knocked on the wall with a gauntleted fist and cleared her throat before approaching, and Verris flashed a brief smile before gesturing at the seat next to him. Eliza sat down carefully, thankful that this bench seemed actually capable of supporting the weight of her armor, and finally got a good look at Verris’ gear.

                The armored plates on his legs, shoulders, and arms weren’t separate pieces as she thought, but actual pieces of the clothing as a whole. He even seemed to be wearing bullet-proof armor underneath the jacket, and she could see a scratched-out Schnee Dust Company logo on the upper half. A whirring sound, almost too quiet for her to notice, drew her attention to the weapon in his hand.

                It was a massive blade, green and single-edged with three gaps near the flat end. The metal looked segmented, held together with screws and what seemed to be pivot joints all the way down into the circular guard around the handle. A strange trigger device protruded from the grip, along with an insulated tube that ran into the guard, and then to a red tank on the back of the blade itself. It was an impressive weapon, to say the least, and she was eager to see it in use.

                “Did you make it yourself?” Eliza asked him, trying to figure out what the blade itself was hiding. “It’s really pretty.”

                Verris smiled, but his eyes didn’t leave his work as he carefully adjusted a screw on the guard. “Thanks. I made it when I started school back home. It took some time, but Vosgedge here never fails me.”

                “Where did you go to school? I never thought to ask,” Eliza inquired, paying careful attention to his reaction.

                Verris frowned and went silent, his fingers frozen in place against the blade before he answered. “It’s a small school in Anima, outside of Haven City,” he answered, resuming his work with a shaking hand. “Not a whole lot to talk about, really.”

                “Gotcha,” Eliza said.

_So it’s not a coincidence, he’s definitely avoiding that topic on purpose._

“What’s that on your right?” Eliza said in an attempt to change the subject, having noticed something metal by Verris’ other side. “Part of Vosgedge?”

                “What thin…oh, this?” Verris said, setting his weapon down for a moment as he reached for the object Eliza indicated. “It’s my leg.”

                Eliza’s eyes widened in shock as Verris handed her a prosthetic leg, built to attach below the knee, as casually as if he had handed her a letter. Her gaze went from the leg, an Atlesian top-of-the-line brand she knew well, to Verris, where she noticed his left pant leg was empty below the knee, and hundreds of new theories about this boy popped into her head at once.

                “Oh, um… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, well I mean that I didn’t know you had, well you don’t have but…” she rambled, fumbling her words as she always did when she got nervous or excited. “I just mean that I didn’t mean to point out something like, well, it can’t be easy to talk about.”

                Verris sighed, and set Vosgedge down on the bench next to him before grabbing the prosthetic. “Eliza, it’s okay, really,” he told her. “I lost the leg a long time ago in an accident, but I’ve gotten used to this one. You don’t have to apologize for asking.”

                “I just don’t want to be weird or, you know, bring things up that are touchy and…I’m rambling again, sorry.”

                “I get the feeling that you’ve already figured this out, but I don’t like to talk about where I’m from,” Verris said, looking her in the eyes with his icy blue ones. “You’re curious, and that’s fine. The leg isn’t an issue to talk about, but I’d prefer we avoid talking about my past. Okay?”

                Eliza nodded quietly, feeling like an ass for trying to dig up something that wasn’t her business. Verris seemed like a good guy, and he was friendly, yet here she was making him spell out where he stood on his own life.

                “Sorry,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “I’ll just head out to the meeting place and meet you there…”

                “Hey, it’s fine, Eliza,” Verris interrupted, connecting the metal leg to his knee before standing back up. “You want me to show you something cool?”

                Verris picked up Vosgedge and twisted the grip. As Eliza watched, the handle rotated from parallel to perpendicular to the blade, and a second grip folded out of the guard. The segments of the blade separated and folded back, revealing the perforated barrel of a flamethrower hidden in the blade’s center.

                Eliza’s jaw dropped, but before she could say anything, someone else decided to make themselves known.

                “If you think it’s impressive now, you should see it in action,” said a girl with a deep crimson ponytail and golden armor. “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was here already. I’m Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos.”

                Pyrrha offered her hand to Eliza, who was even more excited than usual to make a new friend. “Wait, you’re THE Pyrrha Nikos?” she asked incredulously, shaking her hand violently. “As in, the Pyrrha Nikos who holds a three-time championship in the Mistral Regional Tournament? I had no idea you were studying at Beacon! I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve always wanted to see one of those tournaments live and you were there and you won three times and I am so sorry, I’m being a total fangirl right now and it’s probably really uncomfortable…Hi, I’m Eliza”

                Pyrrha’s smile fell a bit, but she laughed all the same. “I’m used to it at this point, it’s fine,” she assured her, although her eyes flicked nervously in Verris’ direction for a moment. “I’m just trying to get acquainted with my fellow students before the test starts.”

                “I take it you’re scouting for potential teammates, then?” Eliza asked, practically vibrating with excitement. “I bet people are climbing over each other for the chance, huh?”

                “Well, I wasn’t plan…” she started to respond, her hands fidgeting a bit.

                                “Well, let’s just hope she picks well,” Verris interrupted coldly as he seemed to focus on adjusting his coat. “Second place seems like it’s not her schtick, with a reputation like hers.”

                Eliza whipped around with a look of shock at Verris, completely humiliated by his rudeness in front of one of her idols, but he didn’t so much as look in Pyrrha’s direction. There was something bad between them, she knew that. It also answered the question as to where Verris was from, but that didn’t matter in the moment.

                “I’d better get to the meeting place,” Pyrrha blurted out awkwardly, turning on her heels towards the exit. “Best of luck to you both.”

                “I’ll go with you,” Eliza said, picking up her shield and moving away from Verris rather blatantly. “We wouldn’t want to be late.”

                On her way out, she made sure Verris saw her glare. Maybe he wasn’t such a good friend after all.

 

                Verris let out a frustrated groan as he rested his head in one hand. _You just couldn’t resist taking a shot, could you?_ he chastised himself. _You have every chance to start fresh and you fall right back on the same damn habits. Probably cost yourself a new friend, too._

He had tried. He really had tried to keep his mouth shut in front of Nikos. A very small part of him, buried under all of the loathing, knew she wasn’t a bad person. She wasn’t responsible for how things had gone at Sanctum. But the second Eliza, the first real friend he’d ever made, started fawning and practically drooling over that spear-flinging, annoyingly optimistic, overrated ‘celebrity’, he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stand the idea of Pyrrha taking something else away from him…

                _Who am I kidding, I messed that up without her help_ , he thought becoming briefly aware of a blonde-haired boy in armor searching for his locker. _Nice going, Verris. Maybe try not to pull the same crap with your future team._

Suddenly his scroll buzzed, and Pyrrha’s face showed up in the message notifications. He had forgotten that Beacon made all student contacts available to each other through the network, and bristled as he saw the ‘unread message’ notification from her.

                _What do you want now?_ he wondered, thumbing through the phone to read the text. As he saw it, his face went red.

                “I’ll leave you alone from now on,” it read. “I was hoping we could start over as friends. I’m sorry.”

                Verris began grinding his teeth, his anger building. Oh, she just had to be the one to offer an olive leaf, of course. He didn’t want to be friends with her, he wanted to be better than her…

                A new message appeared. “I’m sorry about Sanctum. I should’ve done something to help.”

                                And like that, all of the anger rushed out of Verris like air from a balloon. He couldn’t find it in himself to hate her, not when she was trying to fix things. But what other option did he have? If it wasn’t her fault for being the best, that just left him to blame for being second, and that wasn’t an option.

                Verris closed his locker and headed for the door, stopping as he passed a mirror. His ears were sore from lying flat against his hair for so long, and he slowly let them stand at their usual height, green like his hair. As he let his tail drop out from behind him as well, he took a good long look in the mirror, feeling the tips of his ears.

                He wasn’t a full faunus or human. He was something stuck in the middle, a half-breed like his mother always called him. He didn’t know where to belong, or what he wanted. But maybe he could start with being honest.

                Maybe he was ready to stop letting other people tell him what he was.

 


	4. Episode Three: The Faunus and The Zealots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The admission exam at the Emerald Forest begins! Our characters are quite literally (because I'm assuming Ozpin has never heard the phrase "acceptable safety standards") catapulted into the heart of the action and race to survive while finding a teammate. Expect tension and angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Characters: Verris and Eliza by myself.  
> Nero by R.  
> Marcus by L.
> 
> Content Warnings: Violence, Strong Language, Edgevanescene

                Eliza stood in line with her fellow classmates, all of whom were in a row atop several metal platforms on the cliff overlooking the Emerald Forest. Below, packs of Grimm no doubt roamed the land, searching for humans to devour and negative energy to consume. In any other circumstance, she might have been afraid. Instead, she was excited, anxious to vent some frustration on a Beowolf or two. The best thing about attacking Grimm: it was a guilt-free and morally upright thing to do.

                She had been tempted to coax more info out of Pyrrha after the incident with Verris, but through better of it, walking with her in silence to the cliff before they separated. She didn’t come to Beacon to get wrapped up in drama, damn it. She needed to stay positive.

                _The Grimm can smell anger and negativity. Stay positive,_ she told herself, breathing deeply. _Stay positive, and they never see you coming._

She looked to her right and saw more students filtering in. She recognized a few from the previous day; Yang Xiao-Long and her sister Ruby were among them. When she spotted Marcus, her usual smile came back and she waved him over. He spotted her instantly, and took his spot on the square next to her after greeting her with a fist bump.

                “Man, Verris wasn’t kidding about that shield,” Marcus said, impressed. “That thing probably weighs more than me. You one-hand that thing?”

                “Yep! I don’t even notice the weight anymore,” Eliza answered, her anger at Verris completely forgotten. “Just wearing this armor is a workout, so I had to get used to it quick.”

                “No fooling,” Marcus laughed, before turning to Nero. “I really need to get back to working out, man,” he whispered.

                “You’ve been a slacky boi,” Nero joked back, twirling a pair of blue daggers in his hands. “Gotta get them gains.”

                “True,” Marcus replied, hefting the short spear, Ascendant, in his left hand. It was much heavier than the device looked, a fact explained by most of the spear being retracted into the handle at the moment. He didn’t like the idea of facing the Grimm-infested woods, but Ascendant and Nero made it a bit better.

                “Have you seen Verris today?” Marcus asked, noticing the boy’s absence. “I thought he was psyched for this test?”

                Eliza’s smile faltered, and she simply shrugged. “Maybe he’s nervous,” she said. “If he doesn’t make it, that’s kind of on him.”

                Marcus and Nero exchanged confused looks, but said nothing. Shortly after, Verris turned up on the site and took the square next to Nero. Eliza made sure to keep her eyes away from him, but was secretly glad he hadn’t been late.

                In front of the students, Ozpin stood by quietly with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cane in the other as Glynda appeared to be doing a headcount of those present. Upon Verris’ arrival, she nodded to Ozpin and took a step back.

                “It appears that we have our new students accounted for, and all on time,” Ozpin began with a warm smile. “Today is a very important moment in your training, a test to evaluate your skills as future guardians of the Kingdoms.”

                He made a brief sweeping motion towards the forest, below the cliff. “The Emerald Forest remains the last untamed fragment of Vale within our grounds, a proving site for those like you. Somewhere in this forest is a set of relics, varying in size and shape. Your job is to land in the forest and collect these relics with the first person you make eye contact with after landing. Each pair will collect one relic and return here to complete the test,” he explained, eyes scanning the students carefully. “Be aware that these people you pair up with will be your teammates and partners for the duration of your time at Beacon, so try to land near someone you can rely on.”

                Immediately, the girl named Ruby cried out in disbelief from Eliza’s left, and Jaune (was his name Jaune or John?) started visibly panicking. She saw Marcus and Nero making finger guns at each other, and Verris simply readied his weapon.

                _I’ll bet he doesn’t even want a teammate_ , Eliza thought, before turning her attention back to Ozpin.

                “Remember, this forest is dangerous, and if you are not careful, the Grimm will not show mercy. Upon landing, be ready for any threat thrown your way,” he said, his eyes narrowing as the clanging of metal became audible from Eliza’s left.

                _These are launch pads_ , Eliza realized after seeing them fling her fellow students towards the forest. The one named Yang could be heard howling in laughter as she soared into the distance. _No turning back now._

Eliza pressed a button on the side of her gorget, and smiled as golden bands clanged into place around her head in a full knight’s helmet. The slits in front of her eyes gave her more than enough to see what was coming, and as she felt the platform underneath her feet spring forward and rocket her towards the trees, she heard Marcus close behind her shouting “DOOOO AAAA FLIIIIP!”

                Eliza adjusted her shield as she flew closer and closer to the trees, preparing to activate her semblance if needed. Lioncrest would keep her safe from pretty much anything, but she wanted to be sure of her safety. The trees rushed up to meet her, and she braced for impact as she tapped into her aura, feeling the warmth envelop her as she smashed clear through the first, then second, and then a third tree trunk before skidding safely to a halt on solid ground. The trees behind her crashed to the ground in obliterated heaps, and she instantly prepared to bash any Grimm she saw into powder with her shield. But she was alone, and safe for now.

 

                Marcus lost contact with Nero midflight, but as worried as he was, he knew Nero could hold his own against any Grimm the forest had. It had taken some last minute adjusting, but Marcus had somehow landed on his feet without a single scratch in the middle of the forest, which was nice. He slammed a button on Ascendant’s handle, and the spear instantly extended into a five foot long staff. A crosshair and shoulder stuck sprung out from the device, and a magazine swiveled into view. A trigger popped out near his hand, and the weapon was ready to fire every single spearhead but one with a simple pull.

                Marcus did a quick scan of the area; he was used to spotting Grimm in the desert, not in forests where they had so much cover to hide behind. Still, there was no sign of any, so he took off like a rocket into the woods, searching for any sign of humanoid activity. He didn’t like wandering alone.

                “Alright, just gotta find Nero. Find Nero, and you’re golden,” he muttered to himself, keeping his steps as quiet as he could. “Whatever you do, find Nero first…”

                Marcus’ thoughts were interrupted as he slammed headlong into a metal wall with a pronounced clang, and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Nothing was broken, thank Dust, but the wall in front of him seemed to be trying to help him up. It also wasn’t a wall, but a girl in heavy armor.

                _Well, I guess Eliza’s not a bad second choice_ , Marcus thought to himself through the stars dancing in his vision as Eliza helped him to his feet, apologizing profusely. _I just hope Nero doesn’t get stuck with someone like Cardin. Ozpin wouldn’t let that happen._

“Are you okay?” Eliza asked, and Marcus found himself trying not to laugh at the sight of this armored colossus apologizing like she’d just kicked a puppy. “I didn’t see you until it was too late, and I’m worried this is becoming a habit.”

                “Habit?” Marcus asked before ignoring the remark. “Nah, I’m good, just didn’t expect to run into you, especially literally.”

                Eliza laughed, and shifted her massive shield. Marcus raised an eyebrow as he heard something rattling around inside the device, but moved on.

                “So, I guess this makes us teammates, huh?” Eliza asked sheepishly. “Sorry, I know you wanted to be teamed up with Nero…”

                “Well, we’ll find him next,” Marcus said, ignoring the nagging frustration in the back of his head. “We’ve got a signal to find each other, something secret that no one else will answer. But here’s the problem. It’ll attract Grimm.”

                To Marcus’ surprise, Eliza’s face lit up like a lightbulb at that. “Oh, bring it on,” she said excitedly, cracking her neck. “I haven’t had a good fight since my last school!”

                “You know, I think we’re going to get along just fine,” Marcus said with a smile. “Get ready, I’m going to give the secret signal now.”

                Eliza’s face disappeared behind bands of golden metal that rapidly formed a helmet, and she giggled in a way that did not match the imposing shape the armor gave her. Marcus took a deep breath, and shouted.

                “AY YO NERO, WHERE YOU AT, BOY!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “FOLLOW THE SOUND OF EXPLOSIONS!”

                “There, that ought to do the trick,” Marcus said with a smile as Eliza’s laugh echoed out of her helmet, only to be cut short by the unmistakable howling of Beowolves in the distance. “Get ready,” Marcus said, readying Ascendant. “I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine.”

                “Oh, you don’t need to worry, I’ve got this,” Eliza responded, bashing a gauntleted fist against the front of her shield loudly. “I feel like this forest’s wildlife could use some population control.”

                It wasn’t long before the first Beowolf leapt out of the bushes with a savage growl, all teeth and bony armor as it extended its claws toward Marcus…

                The creature’s skull was impaled on the spear before it could even react, and Marcus flung the beast aside with a snarl. “Come on!” he shouted. “Is that all you’ve got?”

                Immediately, the rest of the pack began pouring into the clearing around them, and Eliza bashed her fist against her shield again. Marcus realized she was taunting them, riling them up to make mistakes.

                _Smart plan_ , he thought with a smile as the pack circled them. These wolves were nothing compared to what he had seen in Vacuo.

                “On your left, ten o’ clock,” Eliza warned him, just as another one pounced at them. Marcus flipped the spear around, cracking the hilt up into the bottom of the Beowolf’s jaw in a blast of burn Dust before twirling Ascendant in a rapid storm of slashing blows against the helpless monster, tearing it to shreds.

                “Behind you at five!” he shouted, still taking apart his current enemy as another one attempted to exploit Eliza’s blind spot. For a moment, it seemed the beast would meet its mark, and then Eliza smashed it out of the air and straight into the ground with a single powerful slam from Lioncrest. The ground shook as her shield forced the creature into the shape of a poorly-made pancake, and Marcus smiled. Eliza was a force to be reckoned with.

                It didn’t take long for the pack to realize that attacking one at a time wasn’t working, and they all rushed the pair at once. Eliza and Marcus responded in kind, spinning around each other in a flurry of counterattacks and dodges while sounding off their own defiant battle cries. As one of the monsters attempted to swipe at Marcus’s feet, Eliza ducked beneath her teammate, and let him roll across her back to stop an attacker on her side. She grabbed the Beowolf in a single hand and swung it like a flail into one of its pack mates, breaking the spine on both before she discarded the body. The pack’s numbers were dwindling rapidly, but without a survival instinct, they continued their assault against Marcus’ sweeping slashes and precise lunges, and Eliza’s shield and brute strength.

                The two of them howled and roared with taunts and battle cries the whole time, daring the creatures to do their worst as they pummeled and slashed them apart like berserkers in a frenzy, and not once did the teammates step further than ten feet from the other. Try as they might, the Grimm couldn’t overcome the team effort, and as Eliza crushed the last one’s head beneath her armored boot, it was over.

                The two took a minute to catch their breath, and Eliza’s helmet turned towards Marcus. “You good?” she asked, sounding just as energized as before. “That was pretty hectic.”

                “I’m not even winded,” Marcus replied with a grin, flinging the Grimm’s blood off of his blade in a swinging motion. “You’re a hell of a fighter.”

                “You’re not too shabby either,” Eliza replied. “I guess they teach the guys in Vacuo something they haven’t figured out in Atlas yet.”

                “And what’s that?”

                                “How to keep up with the women in a fight,” Eliza replied with a laugh. “Come on, let’s find Nero.”

 

                Nero was on edge, to say the least. He’d been able to land just fine, using the Dust in his twin daggers to generate enough reverse thrust to slow down and land safely, but the reserves were greatly depleted now, likely beyond the point where he could use them with his energy redirection semblance.

                The daggers, Orcus and Poena, were each a foot and a half in length from the tip to base of the blade, and housed Dust dispersal units in the hilt, activated by a trigger squeeze. As usual, he had filled them with Burn and Lightning powder, the most destructive he could get his hands on, but he had already used too much in the landing.

                He was also surrounded by hungry looking Grimm; Ursa, from the look of things. He’d read about the bear-like creatures during his time in Vacuo, but never seen one up close until now. They were massive, all black fur and muscle that shook the earth with each step.

                _One would’ve been fine on a good day, but three?_ Nero thought to himself, both daggers at the ready as his wolfish ears twitched in the direction of each new sound they made. _Bit ridiculous for first years._

The Ursa at the front of the group growled loudly, something that almost sounded tired, but the threat was clear enough. Nero snarled, and bared his sharp teeth as he let loose a deep, rumbling growl of his own. This thing was the only obstacle between him and Marcus, and the longer he waited, the greater the risk they’d be paired with someone else.

                One of the Ursa lowered its head and began to charge, just as Nero squeezed the trigger on Orcus and released a plume of red Dust crystals into the air. In an instant, the boy spun on his heel and seemed to absorb the burn Dust into his own hand before blasting a raw fireball straight out of his other arm and into the charging Ursa’s skull.

                The effect was instantaneous; the Ursa was flung off of its feet by the force of the impact, skidding to a halt before weakly groaning and dissipating into black vapor. The other two took this as the cue to attack, and Nero prepared himself for a close-quarters fight. The Ursa drew closer, and closer, until they were almost on top of him…

                Nero leapt out of the way at the last second, vaulting over the creatures in a leaping somersault that brought his daggers spinning through the flesh of both beasts as they passed beneath him. They roared in pain, but as he landed, he knew the fight wasn’t over. It would take a lot more work than that, especially if he wanted to conserve his Dust supply. The Ursa, readying themselves for another attack, pawed at the ground angrily, and Nero smiled.

                _These things are easier to bait than a tourist with a heavy wallet_ , he thought, twirling Orcus dramatically in one hand as he held Poena out front. _But how many times will they fall for this?_

Again, the Ursa charged, and Nero quickly sidestepped the attacks before countering with a rapid storm of stabs and slashing motions that carved each of the beasts to pieces as they desperately tried to land a hit on the evasive Faunus. He ended the encounter with a single decisive blow, cross-cutting the two beasts with an attack that left them both decapitated.

                _Done and done_ , Nero thought, checking for any stragglers he hadn’t noticed. _Now, first order of business, find Marcus…_

                “AY YO NERO, WHERE YOU AT BOY?” he heard Marcus’ voice shout from somewhere nearby. “FOLLOW THE SOUND OF EXPLOSIONS!”

                _Ah, there’s the signal_ , Nero mused with a smile, instantly taking off in the direction of the voice. _Not very good at the whole secret thing. We should work on that. Maybe imitate a bird call or something?_

Somewhere, a girl with a hammer had a sneezing fit.

                                Nero heard the sounds of a struggle, but more worrying was the smoke and heat rapidly beginning to rise in the East. A fire had started in the forest, and was spreading rapidly in his direction. The wind was in his favor for now, but if that changed, he could rapidly find himself in the middle of a worst-case scenario.

                “Yeah, put a timer on the test too,” Nero grumbled, weaving around the trees as he searched for Marcus, the sounds of fighting getting closer. “Brilliant move, I love the challenge.”

                He burst through the underbrush into a clearing, and noticed two things: one, there was only a clearing because someone had very recently chopped down all trees in the area. Two, the person he had just made eye contact was most definitely not Marcus. It was the boy from yesterday, Verris.

                _Shit_ , Nero thought to himself as the two froze, taking a moment to process the situation. _Shit, shit, shit._

                “Nero, right?” Verris asked him, hefting a massive green blade over his shoulder before crushing a red Dust tank under his foot. “We met yesterday. I’m Verris. Guess we’re partners now, right?”

                Nero remained silent, furious that he had run into someone other than Marcus. Maybe he could slip away from the encounter without Ozpin noticing, and fight Marcus instead? Yeah, that could work…

                “Hey, uh, we need to get moving and find these relic things,” Verris said after clearing his throat. “I’d rather not wait around for the rest of the nest to catch up with us.”

                “Wait, what nest?” Nero asked, caught off guard as he saw the rapidly dissipating bodies of massive snakes littering the ground. “Oh…tell me you didn’t…”

                “Landed straight in the middle of a King Taijitu nest, yeah,” Verris finished for him, and Nero noticed the boy had cat’s ears sticking up from his lime green hair. “Actually, I think that’s them making all of the noise out there. We should probably get going. Like now.”

                Nero turned his head in the same direction, and his ears immediately picked up the sound of angry hissing and scales sliding over the ground. He gritted his teeth and checked his Dust reserves. He was low, but another burst of fire wasn’t out of the question…

                “I’ll lead the way, just don’t fall behind,” Verris said, his voice suddenly much harsher as his sword folded apart to reveal a flamethrower barrel. “They can’t track us through fire.”

                Before Nero could argue, Verris had covered the woods between them and the snakelike Grimm in a wave of fire, consuming the trees in heat before he changed the weapon back into a sword and started running.

                “Come on, keep up!” Verris shouted as Nero followed suit. The boy frowned; nobody gave him orders, period.

                Still, he stuck close to his unwanted partner as they vaulted over root and rock to lose the Taijitu swarm, until it felt like his legs were about to fall off. He was a sprinter, dammit, not a marathon runner.

                “We should be fine here,” Verris said, panting slightly as he sank his sword into the ground. “Catch your breath and get ready to find the relics.”

                “Hey, I’m not your sidekick, Verris,” Nero gasped between breaths, glaring at him. “If we’re partners, even for the moment, don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m a follower. I can hold my own just fine.”

                Verris grimaced, and his ears flattened against his head immediately. Nero rolled his eyes; of course he got stuck with the arrogant one. _First chance I get, I’m ditching this guy…_

_Ozpin will know. It won’t be that easy._

“Look, I just saved our hides, can I get a little respect?” Verris blurted out, motioning to the smoking woods behind them. “I know you and Marcus seemed set on teaming up, but we’re kind of stuck with each other, right now.”

                “Oh-hoh, you saved our hides? Let’s see how long before the wind changes and your little forest fire catches up with us,” Nero remarked pointedly, raising himself to Verris’ height. “We’re not the only ones in the forest, you know. That blaze could kill one, or two, or all of us in training because you didn’t think things through.”

                Verris’ slit pupils narrowed, and Nero gripped his daggers tightly. This was not going to work out, he knew that. The sooner he could find a different partner, the better. Verris was probably thinking the same exact thing.

                “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child, Nero,” Verris hissed, his eyes moving up to the boy’s ears. “I know what I’m doing, and the sooner we get to working together, the better.”

                “Working together, or working for you?” Nero replied. “And you got a problem with something on my head? Anything you’d like to say?”

                Suddenly, Verris’ anger seemed to evaporate as his own ears flattened insistently into his own hair. Nero had touched several nerves, but that one seemed to be a sore spot. “No, Dust no!” Verris apologized quickly, even as his tail darted up to hide under his coat. “Look, this is just a rough start. Let’s find our relic and finish the test. I’ll even swap with Marcus if you want him as a teammate. Deal?”

                Nero stared suspiciously at Verris’ gloved hand before shaking it. “Deal,” he said, still simmering a bit. “By the way, keep your ears where they were. You’ll hear the Grimm coming much earlier.”

                “Please don’t bring them up,” Verris snapped, before going quiet again and shaking his head. “Sorry. Take the lead, if you like.”

                _Man, what is your deal?_ Nero thought to himself through the satisfaction of knocking the guy down a notch. _It’s not like you’re parading around Atlas with a Faunus support sticker._

The two of them journeyed deeper into the woods, away from the encroaching flames behind them as they desperately sought out the end of their test.

               

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, finally some action! Not gonna lie, it was really fun working with the teammate pairings R. and L. suggested, even if Verris can be an idiot sometimes


	5. Episode Five: The Burning Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verris and Nero do their best to accomplish the mission while running from Verris' impromptu forest fire, leading to one big cluster-(REDACTED) of Grimm and panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Graphic Violence, Strong Language
> 
> Again, I really had fun writing the fight scenes for this chapter. Grimm make for really good enemies when writing because you really don't have to justify much. Still, it can get gratuitous.
> 
> Original Characters: Verris and Eliza by me.  
> Nero by R.  
> Marcus by L.

Verris’ mind was racing with all the different plans he now had to make as he followed Nero through the forest. He had been ready from the start to fight his way tooth and claw through the Grimm, but he never counted on the idea that his partner wouldn’t trust him. Wasn’t that part of partnership?

                _I just keep stepping on more and more toes today_ , he thought to himself as he realized he could no longer hear the Grimm or smell the burning of wood. _But so long as they aren’t mine…_

He nearly bowled Nero over as the latter slowed to a halt, perking up his ears for a moment before pointing to a nearby tree. “Alright, in all seriousness, I really need to catch my breath,” he said, sitting down between the roots. “We can chill for a bit, then find the relics we need. I figure they’re probably somewhere near the north end of the forest.”

                “Dense vegetation, harder to reach from the launch, furthest from Beacon,” Verris rattled off, nodding. “It makes sense, yeah. There’s probably some nastier Grimm in that direction too…”

                “You sound eager,” Nero remarked, raising an eyebrow in Verris’ direction. “You an adrenaline junkie or something?”

                Verris shook his head, realizing that he had been smiling at the thought of more Grimm to fight. “What? No, I just…look, hunting Grimm is what we do as Huntsmen,” he said, cramming the sentence together with all the grace of a flying cinder block. “Until today, I’d never had the chance to hunt them in the wild. It’s exciting, y’know? I’ve been waiting to get some field experience for a while.”

                Nero sighed, and holstered his daggers at his hips. “Yeah, well don’t get too happy over the concept,” he warned Verris, scuffing a shoe against the ground. “The novelty wears off fast. Grimm aren’t a joke or some sort of prize. They dissolve too fast to take trophies, and they don’t have a survival instinct unless they’re really old. In reality, we’re hunting hopelessly stupid monsters. No glory in that.”

                Verris’ ears perked up again at that, and he frowned. Didn’t Nero want to be a Huntsman too? “It’s not about glory,” Verris corrected him. “It’s about taking down as many Grimm as possible. Each one that disappears makes humanity safer. That’s a pretty big deal.”

                “But only humanity, right?” Nero replied quickly, stretching his legs. “The rest of us get left behind.”

                Verris winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he apologized. “I just don’t know what other word there is to use. Truth be told, you’re the first Faunus I’ve met in my whole life.”

                “You’re kidding, right?” Nero asked, getting back up on his feet as he did a quick scan of the area. “Let’s keep moving, but you’re gonna have to explain that one to me. Weren’t your parents Faunus?”

                Verris face darkened, and he moved his eyes to the ground as he cut through the plants ahead of them. “Dad was. Don’t remember him,” he lied. “Next topic?”

                Silence fell between the two, punctuated only by the sounds of their blades carving apart vines and saplings between them and their destination. It seemed that no matter what they said, words would just raise another obstacle.

                _This is not going to work out_ , Verris thought, beginning to regret his choice to enroll at Beacon. _Running away would’ve been a better choice._

_Still…_

“You’ve fought them before, haven’t you?” Verris asked, slashing through a screen of ivy in a couple of strokes. “The Grimm, I mean. You sound like you have experience with them.”

                Nero laughed, ducking under the shredded plant matter as the sounds of a fight grew louder somewhere in the distance. “For someone who doesn’t like to talk about the past, you don’t seem to have a problem asking others about it,” he pointed out. “I’ve fought plenty. Never had a moment where it didn’t scare me though.”

                Verris nodded, straining to hear the fighters as they drew closer. “Well it sounds like we’re in for more. Something big is attacking the others to the north, right in our way.”

                “Yep.”

                                “You ready for it?”

                “Are you?”

                                The two of them increased their pace, accelerating from a jog to a sprint as the telltale clacking noise of a Deathstalker’s pincers grew louder. Overhead, a Nevermore was circling, its wingspan easily the width of a tournament field.

                _I’ve always wanted to bring one of those down_ , Verris thought with a smile. _I hear they’re one hell of a challenge._

The sounds of fighting grew louder, and Verris threw his arm out to stop Nero as a massive black scorpion charged through the forest ahead of them, chasing eight of their fellow classmates. The Ruby girl and Pyrrha were among them, along with…

                “Was that Weiss Schnee?!” Nero blurted out incredulously. “What the hell is she doing at Beacon?”

                Verris’ hand went to the SDC logo he had scratched off of his body armor, and his eyes narrowed. “I’ve got no clue. I guess family money wasn’t enough for her,” he said. “Should we help them?”

                Nero shook his head, and pointed to a stone ruin to their left. “First things first, we’ve got a job to finish,” he pointed out. “Let’s grab our relic and then catch up.”

                Verris saw what Nero was pointing to; a ring of pedestals with oversized chess pieces on them. Most were already taken, save for two black pawns. The teammates exchanged a curt nod, and Verris readied his flamethrower as Nero rushed to grab one of the pieces.

                No sooner had he laid his hands on the pawn than the two of them noticed a loud crashing noise, like a stampeding elephant. Verris drew closer to his partner, noticing with a shock that his burn Dust was half empty.

                “How are you on ammo?” Verris asked, keeping his eyes on the woods as the sound drew closer. “I’ve got some spares on my belt, but I don’t know if it’ll help.”

                “Nearly out of burn and lightning Dust,” Nero replied, although he held his daggers at the ready all the same. “If you’ve got Dust at all, it’ll work.”

                Verris passed him a small reserve tube of red crystals, and noticed Nero pouring it into a compartment on the red dagger before placing the vial in his pocket. Whatever was in the woods, they had no chance of outrunning it. They had to stand their ground.

                Verris was braced to attack when he saw a familiar pair burst from the woods, one of them clad in massive golden armor and the other carrying a spear. Something bellowed from the forest behind them, and the two quickly lowered their weapons.

                “Eliza?”

                                “Verris?”

                “Nero!” Marcus shouted, as he was quickly tackled to the ground in a flying leap by his friend. The other two simply exchanged uneasy glances as Eliza grabbed the last remaining pawn.

                “Hey, uh…” Verris started awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

                                “Yeah...” Eliza replied, retracting her helmet into the armor.

                “Sorry for embarrassing you earlier,” Verris said.

                                “We can talk about it later,” Eliza replied quickly, picking Nero and Marcus up off of the ground.

                “Also, I think they’d like to switch teams, so…” Verris continued, but Eliza hushed him with a raised hand.

                “No we can talk about all of this later,” she urged him, her words much more insistent. “Like, we really need to get moving, now!”

                Suddenly, a massive, elephantine Grimm burst from the treeline, plants flattened underneath its feet as it raised its trunk and trumpeted in fury. The sound forced Verris’ hand over his ears, and he spun on his heel after the rest of the group, straight in the direction of the other students. The Grimm, which he remembered was called a Goliath, was not far behind them.

                _We’ve gotta get to the other eight_ , Verris thought. _They can help us take this thing down, and then we can all make it out of here…_

Verris slowed to a halt as he saw the flaw in the plan. “Guys, stop!” he shouted, pointing back to the ruin. “We have to hold it here!”

                “Verris, are you crazy?” Nero shouted back, although they had begun to slow down too. “We have to help the others! They’re fighting a Deathstalker AND a Nevermore right now!”

                Verris shot a puff of flame at the Goliath, forcing it to stumble back in surprise as he led them to the other side of the ruin. “That’s exactly my point,” he explained, twisting the weapon back into a solid blade. “They’re already fighting two massive Grimm, and if we go after them, we bring a third one down on their heads. None of us will survive the fight!”

                “Shit.”

                                The Goliath looked like it was strongly considering joining the fray to the north, but kept its eyes fixed on the four students before them. They barely reached the thing’s knees; it could crush them easily.

                “If that’s true, then you’re right,” Marcus said, twirling his spear anxiously. “We’ve gotta take this thing out quickly…Eliza, what are you doiiiiOH DUST ALMIGHTY THAT IS COOL!”

                Verris quickly turned to face Eliza, and his jaw dropped as he realized that there was now a line of ten Elizas assembled in front of them, all decked out in the same armor and hefting the same massive shield. It was impossible to tell which one was the real Eliza. Maybe they all were?

                The line of Elizas began bashing their gauntleted fists into their chests and thumping their shields against the ground rhythmically, the sound stunningly close to that of an entire advancing army. The Goliath turned to face the line; she had its attention.

                “Don’t just stand there!” the armored soldiers all called out at once. “Fight!”

                                That was all Verris needed to hear. He tore off like a rocket towards the Goliath’s legs, slashing at the back of an ankle as he passed. The creature roared in pain, but did not seem seriously hurt. The creature raised a foot over his head…

                BOOM!

                                Nero appeared in a flash, the blast of fire from his hand knocking the creature off balance as he pushed Verris aside. “Watch yourself, man!” Nero exclaimed, as Eliza continued her taunting.

                _Spear, daggers, shield, and a sword_ , Verris thought, running through the list in his head. _Eliza can clone herself but that shield can’t fight an elephant. Nero’s got some wacky Dust-power, but those daggers can probably do serious damage up close. Marcus has that spear, and all I’ve got is a flamethrower…_

“Nero, Marcus, you two need to get in close and go for the legs!” Verris shouted, dodging a swipe from the Goliath’s trunk. “Eliza and I will keep it distracted, but we need to bring it down!”

                The Vacuoan pair nodded, and started circling the creature carefully while Verris joined Eliza’s brigade at the thing’s head. The Goliath’s ears were shaking in irritation; Eliza was really doing a good job of making it mad.

                “Any idea on how we’re going to keep its attention?” the Elizas asked. “Shield bashing only works for scaring things that aren’t this size.”

                “Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Verris said, spinning Vosgedge back into a flamethrower. “It has to choose a target, so I’ll stay in its face and burn it. If you’ve got any tricks up your sleeve, now would be the time.”

                The knights all nodded at once, and changed their taunting to a chaotic, overwhelming crashing of metal and earth, mingled with angry shouts. Verris whistled as he drew closer to the Goliath; she was like a one-woman riot.

                “Hey you! Tall, dark, and stupid!” Verris shouted, waving his blade around just under the trunk. “Your brother made a great set of piano keys!”

                The Goliath trumpeted again, raising its trunk to swipe at the boy. As soon as it was in range, Verris rolled out of the way and blasted the appendage with a plume of fire. The spray clung to its skin, and the beast stomped around in a panic as it tried to put the fire out.

                “NOW!” Verris shouted to the other two, waiting behind the massive creature anxiously.

                                Immediately, Marcus and Nero leapt onto the Goliath’s back legs, sinking their weapons into its hide like climbing axes as they scaled onto its back. There was another burst of fire from Nero, and the beast finally seemed to notice the new attackers as they hacked at its limbs.

                “Oh, shit,” Verris swore, using the opportunity to sink Vogedge halfway into the Goliath’s front foot before it stopped. He pulled the flame trigger, and wrinkled his nose as the blade’s vents emptied fire directly onto and into the wounded limb. “C’mon, keep your eyes on me, you idiot!”

                As he went to pull the blade back out, Verris realized in shock that it had become stuck in the leg, no matter how hard he pulled. “No, no, no, no!”

                The Goliath’s trunk came back down, swinging straight at Verris’ head. The boy activated his semblance, skin turning to steel as he braced for impact.

                The blow flung him well over fifty feet away from his weapon, and he felt the breath driven from his lungs as he skidded to a halt. Nothing was broken, thankfully, but his Aura had taken a huge chunk of the damage. Another hit like that could kill him, and now he was also unarmed.

                “Verris!” Eliza shouted in a panic, moving her line directly between the Goliath and him. “Are you okay?”

                As he picked himself up off of the ground, Verris groaned. “I’ve still got most of my limbs in one piece,” he said, dusting himself off. “Don’t focus on me, bring that thing down!”

                “Easier said than done, mate!” Marcus shouted back from the Goliath’s head. He and Nero were both holding on for dear life, their weapons sunk into the creature’s back as it tried desperately to fling them off. “I’d say this wasn’t my first rodeo, but I actually haven’t tried this before!”

                “Oh boy,” Verris mumbled. “Eliza, can you cover me? I’m about to do something very stupid.”

                                “Just get Nero and Marcus off of that thing,” Eliza said, smashing her shields into the ground by about an inch. “I’ll finish it off.”

                Verris wanted to question how she meant to do that with nothing but shields, but thought better of it as he raced towards the Goliath, armoring his skin completely. Vosgedge was still in one piece, and the leg it was stuck in had been rendered useless. He just had to pull it free.

                “Will. You. Stop. Moving. Around!” Nero shouted from above, punctuating each word with another stab. “Die. Already!”

                Verris was already under the Goliath, desperately dodging its trunk as he raised a single iron fist, and smashed it into the beast’s leg.

                He could hear the bone splinter away into nothing immediately under the impact. The Goliath trumpeted loudly, and then collapsed onto its side with an earthshaking crash. Verris pulled his sword free of the creature, and then circled around to find the others.

                Nero and Marcus were already back on the ground, going straight for the thing’s head with weapons ready. Clouds of lightning and burn Dust morphed into vibrant beams of energy at Nero’s command, blasting the Goliath’s trunk clean off as Marcus started firing spearheads at the eyes. This was nothing new to them, Verris realized. There’s a routine here.

                “Everybody get clear now!” Eliza shouted from behind them, and the three of them turned to see something very much offense-focused peering out from the shields now.

                Each shield had split open in the middle, revealing what was unmistakably a multi-rocket launcher aimed straight at the Goliath. Marcus quickly grabbed the other two and retreated to a safe distance, and Eliza let loose.

                A full salvo of screeching missiles fired from her shields, all soaring towards the downed Goliath as its screams and form were both completely obscured behind clouds of dust, flame, and smoke. There was seemingly no end to the supply of rockets on hand, and after several minutes had passed, the attack stopped, and the clones disappeared.

                Eliza, now standing alone in her armor, collapsed to her knees in exhaustion, and started catching her breath as the helmet disappeared again into her armor. Marcus was helping her up almost immediately, his face red from the effort required. The Grimm were nowhere to be seen or heard, and everyone let out a deep sigh of relief.

                “Was hoping I wouldn’t have to use that,” Eliza panted as she was helped towards a nearby stone outcrop, using it as a makeshift chair. “Forming the Brigade is easy, but copying weapon effects across all of them is exhausting.”

                “You had a freaking missile launcher hidden in your shield,” Marcus breathed almost reverently. “That is quite possible the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. I mean, thanks for that, but also, Dust, that was so damn awesome!”

                The sounds of fighting had died out to the north, but plenty of human voices could be heard. It sounded like everyone had survived just fine, somehow.

                “Good work, team,” Verris wheezed, sprawled out on the ground as he raised an arm to give a thumb’s up. “Good work. Let’s not do that again.”

                Somewhere, the engine of a hovercraft was starting up, flying to the north end of the forest. The test, it seemed, was over.


	6. Episode Five: The Headmaster Must Be Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team VENM is officially formed, but Verris struggles to understand why he has been named as leader, even as the team gets settled in their new quarters. Meanwhile, Glynda comes to Ozpin, angry (because isn't she always?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Strong Language (LET THE HUNTERS SWEAR, RT!)
> 
> OCs: Verris and Eliza by me.  
> Nero by R.  
> Marcus by L.

It had taken some maneuvering on the part of the pilots, but all of the newly initiated students at Beacon had been returned safe and sound to the school. No one was seriously injured, and no one had died, despite Ozpin’s warnings. After everyone had changed from their gear into the Academy uniforms, they were ushered out onto the same stage Ozpin had spoken from the previous day, in groups of four.

                It didn’t take long for the students to figure out why they were grouped this way, and Nero and Marcus were practically shaking with excitement as they were grouped with Eliza and Verris.

                “Didn’t even need to switch partners, I guess,” Eliza joked, raising an eyebrow at Verris. “See? Problem resolved itself, we’ve got our own team now, we took down a Goliath, and it’s only noon!”

                Verris had to laugh at that, even as he took in the sight of all the second, third, and fourth year students eyeing them from around the stage. He wasn’t used to this much attention at once, and he felt the urge to hide his ears again.

                _I should’ve worn the hat today,_ he thought, before stopping himself. _No, this is my choice. I’m not going to hide this anymore._

The crowds fell silent as Ozpin cleared his throat, speaking into a microphone that had to be hidden somewhere in that cane of his.

                “Students of Beacon, those before us today have accomplished their first step in becoming fully-fledged Huntsmen and Huntresses, surviving a forest filled with Grimm and displaying exceptional promise, all as you did during your own initiations,” the headmaster said, the pride in his voice a poor match for his emotionless expression. “Sixteen students have proven themselves, and with this, four new teams have joined you in this noble pursuit. Without further ado, I present the newest initiates of Beacon Academy.”

                A blue hologram floated above the stage, displaying the faces of each student who had passed the test. It zoomed in on a row of four, consisting of the one named Cardin Winchester and his cronies. Verris didn’t even listen as Ozpin rattled their names off; he’d heard enough about Cardin to know he was not a friend by any means.

                “…Team Cardinal, led by Cardin Winchester!” Ozpin finished, and the students were met with a roar of applause from the crowd before them as the screen moved on to the next four.

                “Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren, Jaune Arc, and Pyrrha Nikos, you all retrieved the Rook pieces, and as such, are now Team Juniper,” Ozpin said, and Verris fought to keep his expression calm as he heard that name again. “You will be led by…”

                _Let me guess, it’s Miss Perfect again…_

“Jaune Arc!” Ozpin said, prompting waves of shock and surprise from the crowd as he made the announcement. Verris felt as if he’d just had cold water dumped on his head, looking from Ozpin to the gangly, awkward blonde boy named Jaune.

                _Wait, him? You can’t be serious, he’s leading a team with Pyrrha on it?_ he thought, absolutely beaming now. _Oh, this couldn’t be easier for me. That kid’s hopeless._

“Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao-Long, and Ruby Rose,” Ozpin continued, as the screen focused in on the indicated mix, a motley crew if Verris had ever seen one. “You retrieved the Knight pieces, designating you as Team Ruby, led by Miss Ruby Rose!”

                Again, surprise and shock ran through the crowd. So far, the three team leaders were a racist, a rookie, and a girl two years younger than every other student. None of this was making any sense to Verris as he tried to figure out how Ozpin was making these decisions.

                But then Ozpin turned to face their group, and the screen focused in close on their pictures. The four of them stood stock still as Ozpin read their names off, his eyes focusing in close on each one of them. Was he worried?

                “Marcus Avalok…”

                                _This is it._

“Nero Boudica…”

                                _I’ve made it onto a team._

“Verris Emedio…”

                                _Wait, who’s going to lead?_

Verris’ gaze flicked to Eliza as Ozpin read her name. _She’d be a good leader_ , he thought.

                                “And Eliza Aurum, you all retrieved the Pawn pieces,” Ozpin said, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. “An interesting choice, to say the least. You are now Team Venom, led by…”

                _Wait, why is my initial the first in our name?_

“…Verris Emedio!” Ozpin said, and Verris had to fight to keep his eyes from popping out of his head. “That wraps up our introductions. As headmaster, I am eager to see how you improve during your time at Beacon. I have high expectations of each of you.”

                Another round of applause. More cheering. Handshakes from older students as the teams left the stage and mingled with the crowd. Verris simply waded through it all blankly, accepting congratulations in an almost robotic tone as he tried to process it all.

                _He chose me to lead them. Why?_

_Well, why not? I’m a damn good fighter._

_That’s not all that counts._

He looked around for the other three leaders, spotting them instantly through the crowd. The only one among them who seemed to be just as unnerved as himself was Jaune, clearly unable to contain his nerves as he ducked around other students, despite his team’s enthusiasm.

                _What am I missing here? There’s a puzzle piece I don’t have yet…_

A rough hand on his shoulder jolted Verris from his thoughts, and he saw Eliza beaming down at him. “Hello, Verris?” she said, waving her other hand in front of him. “You alright? You seem out of it.”

                Verris put on his best confident face, and shrugged. “I just didn’t expect leadership is all,” he answered, high-fiving a rabbit-eared student as they waded through the crowd. “It’s a lot to take in.”

                “Screw that, man, you should be proud!” Marcus said from behind them. “We just got licensed as the coolest team of ass-kickers in this place. Let’s let em know!”

                Before Verris could protest, Marcus and Eliza had lifted him up on their shoulders, boasting as loudly as they could about how much they were going to do at Beacon while Verris finally caved and lost himself in the moment, urging Nero to join him up above the crowd.

                “You deserve just as much recognition, man,” he shouted over the crowd. “Come on, relax a little!”

                Nero shrugged, shaking his head as he stuck closer to Marcus. “I’m just fine down here, really,” he said. “Can we get to our dorms? I really don’t like crowds.”

                Verris nodded quietly, tapping Eliza on the shoulder to let him down before pointing their way out of the horde. “Check your scrolls,” he said. “Dorms should already have our gear in them.”

 

                 The dorms themselves were nothing too special, but they were far more than what Nero was used to, so it was a welcome change from Vacuo. No sooner had they all stepped in the door than Nero had launched himself onto the nearest bed and buried his face in the pillow, mumbling something that sounded like “yaaaaasss” into the fabric.

                “Well, this is definitely more homey than Atlas,” Eliza said, smiling as she found her luggage under one of the beds. “A bit cramped, but it’s got something cozy about it.”

                “It’s the beds,” Nero mumbled past the pillow, fighting off Marcus’ attempts to pry him away from the mattress. “Definitely the beds. I want to just pass out for the next few days, if that’s alright.”

                “I mean, I’d second that, but maybe we should organize this a bit beforehand?” Marcus said, gesturing at how the beds were lined up. “There’s got to be a better way to partition the room.”

                “Everyone claims their own corner of the common area?” Verris suggested, poking his head out of the kitchen setting for a moment. “One bed to each corner, one quarter of the room to a person?”

                Eliza nodded, but Nero groaned. “Marc and I can share half the room,” he said. “You two can do what you want.”

                Marcus nodded at that. “We’ll probably end up sharing beds anyway,” he remarked, pushing Nero’s bed up against another by the wall, Nero still clinging insistently to the mattress. “I don’t suppose anyone’s got some cord to lash these together with, do they? No? That’s fine, we’ll improvise.”

                While Marcus busied himself with fixing the frames together, Verris and Eliza looked at the remaining two mattresses. Neither of them said anything as Verris moved them up against the opposite corners of the common area, not that Eliza really needed the help.

                “I guess I thought they would have separate rooms,” Eliza said, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “I mean, I don’t mind sharing a room with my team, I like you guys and all, but there’s just something a little bit awkward about sharing a room with three guys and I’m the only girl so…”

                “Eliza,” Verris cut her off. “Do you want me to help you set up a privacy curtain around your bed?”

                “That would be nice, yeah,” Eliza said, exhaling as she turned her eyes to the floor. “But how’re we going to do that?”

                Verris took one look at the ceiling before reaching into his own luggage and pulling out a set of nails. “I had a feeling someone would need these,” he said, tossing the box to Eliza. “This won’t take too long.”

                As the team got unpacked and started making arrangements (although Nero refused to budge from his bed), the sunset bathed the room in a bright orange glow. Eliza was right; the dorms felt plenty cozy, and Verris felt more at home here than anywhere else. He even had his own pillow now!

                _…god, that’s a sad place to set the bar_ , he thought, hammering one of the nails into the ceiling with an iron hand.

                “So what do you guys think of the other teams?” Marcus asked from his side of the room as he jammed his clothes haphazardly into the dresser. “I mean, there’s only sixteen of us in our class, so we might need to work with them eventually.”

                “Team Cardinal can fuck right off,” Nero stated, lifting his head from the pillow just long enough to make himself clear. “Anyone who treats the Faunus like that doesn’t deserve to be in the school, let alone become a team leader.”

                Eliza cringed visibly at Nero’s profanity, but gave him a thumbs up. “Yeah, Cardin’s not a good guy from what I’ve seen,” she added. “His teammates seem to be on the same page as well, so…”

                “Hey, so long as they don’t give us trouble, we’ll be fine avoiding them,” Verris said. “I don’t want to get mixed up in their crap any more than the rest of us.”

                “What about Team Ruby? They seem pretty fun,” Eliza offered hopefully, holding the makeshift curtain steady as Verris drove another nail into the ceiling. “Yang actually offered to show us around Vale sometime, seeing as none of us are from here, and yeah, her sister’s a bit weird but she’s super nice, and that Blake girl is super polite….”

                “I’d be careful around Blake,” Nero cautioned, finally climbing out of the bed to help Marcus with the luggage. “That family name sounds super-familiar, and not in a good way. I don’t like that Schnee either, but the other two seem pretty alright.”

                Verris nodded in agreement. “I haven’t had the chance to meet any of them other than Blake yet, but I’m willing to give it a shot,” he told Eliza. “But I don’t like the idea of an SDC girl looking down her nose at me. Nero’s got that point.”

                “Guys, lighten up a bit,” Marcus said with a sigh. “Yeah, SDC is awful, but Weiss could be totally different. She’s not the one running that company.”

                _Family’s not exactly the best way to judge_ , Verris reminded himself with a grimace.

                                “How about Juniper?” Eliza asked, testing the curtain to make sure it wouldn’t fall. “Sure, their leader is a bit….um…”

                “Clumsy?”

                                “Hopeless?”

                “Didn’t we say we were gonna lighten up?” Marcus reprimanded the two. “Again, give him a chance. Ozpin made him a leader for a reason.”

                All eyes went to Verris for a moment, and he shrugged. “Hey, I don’t get it either. It just happened.”

                “Eliza’s right, though,” Nero said. “Juniper seems like a good bunch. I don’t know how much of Nora I can stand at once, but I wouldn’t mind hanging around them.”

                Verris stayed quiet, making sure his expression stayed hidden as he unpacked and folded his clothes neatly into place. The less he trash-talked Miss Popular, the better. He was already walking a fine line with one of his teammates on the subject.

                “Venom. Veeeeenoooom,” Nero mumbled to himself. “It’s kind of funny how our initials form convenient codenames, isn’t it?”

                “You mean awesome, right?” Marcus said. “One team is named after a bird, one named after a rock, the other after a berry, and we get Venom. Let’s face it, guys, we hit the jackpot.”

                “Can’t argue with that!” Eliza laughed, slumping back onto her bed lazily. “At the very least, no one is going to forget who we are.”

                “We’ll make sure of that, I guarantee it,” Verris spoke up, gazing out of the window. “We’re going to aim straight for the top at Beacon.”

                He meant it. He had no idea how they were going to compete against every other team, especially when this was only their first year, but he’d find a way. He’d take his team straight to the number one spot in their class.

 

                Glynda paced anxiously around Ozpin’s office, flipping through her notes on the students profiles angrily. There had to have been some mistake in the test, something they all overlooked when teammates were arranged. These mixtures couldn’t be a coincidence.

                The elevator doors opened behind her, and Glynda did her best to appear composed in spite of her white-knuckled grip on her scroll. Ozpin entered with a curt nod, coffee in hand as he took his seat behind his desk. Neither of them said a word, the minutes ticking by much more noticeably thanks to the massive gears filling the room. Ozpin simply waited patiently, sipping his coffee as he leaned back in his chair.

                “You’re upset, Glynda?” he finally said, breaking the silence calmly. “What seems to be troubling you?”

                Glynda balked at the headmaster’s casual tone, but it was nothing new. Someone as old as Ozpin was bound to be numb to certain things, even matters concerning his students. Still, this was not the time.

                “Well, since you seem insistent on ignoring my advice, I’ll just come right out and say it,” she began with a huff, flipping through files on her tablet before reaching the problem and sliding the device across the desk. “Admitting students with troubling histories is one thing, but putting them all on one team is quite another, Ozpin.”

                Ozpin took a moment to look over the student profiles Glynda had selected, his eyes expressionless the whole time before he set the device down, and took another long sip from his mug.

                Glynda had a point; VENM was not, by any means, an ideal team as far as the composition went. There was room for quite a lot to go wrong in a hurry with those four.

                “Glynda, while I share your concerns, the matter is out of my hands,” he explained, setting his coffee aside for a moment. “Our tests create teams by random chance, and if we were to interfere, I guarantee some students would end up far worse off for it.”

                “But you still choose the leaders,” Glynda pointed out, stabbing a finger at Verris’ picture. “This goes beyond the matter with Mr. Arc and Miss Rose. Verris is a very dangerous choice for a leader, and you know it.”

                “Well, perhaps if I knew what about him has you so worried, I could put your mind at ease,” the headmaster offered, growing more and more tired of this routine he and Goodwitch went through every year. “I assume you do have your reasons.”

                Glynda’s upper lip twitched with frustration. Even if he meant no disrespect, Ozpin could be so very irritating with that condescending tone of his.

                “Would you prefer an itemized or alphabetical list of the reasons?” she began coldly, scrolling through Verris’ profile. “His behavioral profile from Sanctum shows an obsessive level of perfectionism, an inability to work well with others if not an outright refusal to do so, documented issues of restraint around competitors, should I go on?”

                Ozpin sighed, and gestured for Glynda to take a seat before anything else was said. “I told you that Verris’ application to Beacon was a special circumstance, correct?” he began, his eyes narrowing on the profile. “We normally scout students ourselves. Applying for admission is almost unheard of.”

                Glynda nodded impatiently, but did not interrupt.

                                “Many of those behavioral problems are quite easy to explain when you take into account the kind of home Verris comes from,” Ozpin said, his tone much more grim now. “Put quite plainly, Aethyr Emedio is two things; demanding, and incredibly anti-Faunus. Without Sear around anymore, she is the only authority in the Emedio household. How do you think that might affect someone like Verris, who is half-Faunus?”

                Immediately, Glynda’s expression softened into one of remorse, and her eyes went back to the profile on her scroll. Yes, that actually explained quite a lot about the boy, but still…

                “Then why make him a leader right off of the bat?” Glynda asked. “In his situation, maybe what the boy needs is to not feel further pressured to be perfect, especially with how much he and Nero clashed during the test…”

                “They’re learning, Glynda. Both of them need to adapt, and I genuinely believe this will help them along that path,” Ozpin interrupted. “Part of leadership is learning how to accept responsibility for others, and to hold yourself accountable to your peers. Every student arriving must learn this lesson, and VENM is just such a case. I am asking you to trust my judgement, Glynda. If you’re not convinced, then by all means, keep as close an eye on VENM as you like.”

                “Understood, Ozpin,” she answered curtly, before excusing herself to the elevator.

                                As the doors slid shut behind her, Ozpin let out a deep sigh. He had made plenty of mistakes in his lifetime, and he was more than ready for another. But Glynda was right about VENM. If something went wrong, if leadership didn’t have the effect he predicted, the team was going to be the poorer for it.


	7. Episode Six: A Rocky Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team VENM gets caught up in brewing drama with Team CRDL after a class project gone wrong, and people start lining up to take names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Implied/ Explicit Transphobia, Violence, Strong Language, Sick Burns
> 
> I've always wished someone would've knocked Cardin down a notch, in a much less polite manner than in the canon.
> 
> OCs: Verris and Eliza by me.  
> Nero by R.  
> Marcus and Professor Vek Grae by L.

**Two Weeks Later…**

“Now, class, remember to measure your reagents carefully,” Professor Grae urged their students from the front of the lab for what had to be the third time. “I know we’re not using anything that can cause a serious problem if mistakes are made, but Dust itself is a very fickle substance. You should always treat it with the same caution you treat a loaded gun, no matter what kind.”

                “I dunno, I’ve seen some pretty casual misuse of firearms around here,” Marcus joked, casting a casual glance in the direction of Ruby Rose as she fumbled with the lab equipment. “Nero, how does it look?”

                Nero and Verris were both focused intently on the mixing flask in front of them, pouring various chemicals into the glass as the meniscus reached a marked line. Two weeks had done little to lessen the rivalry between the teammates, but they’d become far more cooperative thanks to Grae’s Dust Sciences course. Marcus and Eliza had simply fallen into the habit of taking notes for the group while the other two fixated on keeping the experiments as controlled as possible.

                “We’re going to need…what does that look like to you, Verris…yeah, sounds right….,” Nero muttered, never taking his eyes off of the flask for a second. “Um, yeah, we’re going to need that vial of T-Par again.”

                “T-Par?” Marcus asked, looking to Eliza as she shrugged and continued taking notes.

                                “Thermo-particulate. Burn Dust,” Nero explained, pointing to a vial of red crystals. “I thought you studied for the last quiz, Marc.”

                Marcus rolled his eyes as he passed Nero the required vial. “Yeah, but no one actually uses the technical terms outside of tests but you, man,” he said. “Well, you and Verris. Nerds.”

                “You’re damn right we are,” Nero replied, handing the Dust to Verris, who started measuring out amounts in another marked flask. “Okay, that looks about right, Verris. Eliza, can you pass us the…yeah, that one, thanks.”

                There was a retching sound from one of the tables behind them, and Eliza had to stifle a laugh as Jaune pinched his nose shut with one hand and desperately tried to clear out the cloud of earth Dust he’d sent into the air around his head. Ren and Pyrrha had already cleaned up the rest of the mess, whilst simultaneously making sure Nora kept away from the bolt Dust.

                “I feel kind of sorry for them sometimes,” Eliza commented, keeping her voice low. “Two weeks and Jaune doesn’t seem any less, well, Jaune than before.”

                Marcus looked up from the experiment for a moment and watched Team Juniper closely before nodding in agreement. “Well, just give him time, I guess,” he suggested, catching his pencil as it tried to roll off of the table. “He’s got a good team behind him. It should click eventually.”

                There was a soft hissing sound from their own experiment, and Nero and Verris both backed away quickly as the now-red mixture in the beaker began bubbling and smoking worryingly. “That’s not supposed to happen,” Verris commented, urging his teammates to step away. “Nero, the instructions did say three grams of T-Par, right?”

                Nero looked closely at the instructions that had been taped to the desk and went pale as he pulled a piece of paper away from them, revealing the proper measurements needed. “Professor Grae, we have a problem!” he called out urgently, frantically carrying the flask to the fume hood at the back of the room.

                The Professor had apparently already seen what was going on, and had snatched the flask from Nero’s hands a moment before the opening began to spark. They placed the flask under the fume hood, slammed a metal screen down across the opening, and locked it in place before backing away.

                There was a loud bang from behind the screen, and Grae exhaled loudly while the rest of the class stared wide-eyed at the back of the room. Grae wiped the sweat off of their brow in relief and then waved casually at the rest of the class.

                “You’re dismissed for the day,” they said, checking the status of the fume container. “Consider today’s experiment exempted. I need to sort something out.”

                The rest of the students rose uneasily from behind the desks, cleaning out their equipment as Grae walked over to Team Venom’s desk with a confused look on their face. Nero and Verris exchanged worried glances: they never messed up a mixture, especially not this badly.

                “Well, there are two problems here,” Grae said, leaning against one of the tables as they held up the vial of burn Dust. “One, although you seemed to have figured this out, your instructions were clearly tampered with, maybe as a prank. Two, and this part worries me, what you have here is not thermo-particulate at all. It’s red-dyed sugar crystals.”

                Verris and Nero looked even more confused than before. Even the laziest student in the course would have known not to mix sugar with the other components. They were lucky no one had been seriously injured. “Professor, we promise we didn’t know that was…”

                “I’m not blaming any of you for this accident, don’t worry,” Grae assured them, pointing to a sticky note on the bottom of the vial. “I doubt my best students would have done something so reckless knowingly, but there’s the fact that someone left a note for you.”

                Nero grabbed the note immediately and read it out loud. “I bet those critter eyes couldn’t see this one coming, ha ha ha…,” he said, his teeth grinding. “Are you kidding me? This is just…oh, when I find out who did this…”

                “You’ll leave the matter to me, Mr. Boudica,” Grae interrupted, their voice too serious to argue with. “This could have caused a great deal of injuries in our class, and the fact that it appears to have been racially motivated only worsens the matter. I’ll be looking into this issue myself. But I urge you, do not try to get even.”

                Nero looked like he wanted to argue, but something about Professor Grae always demanded respect. Their one visible eye stared long and hard at Nero, daring him to fight, but nothing came of it.

                “Yes, Professor Grae,” Nero grudgingly conceded. “We’ll clean our gear and get going.”

                                “No, leave your lab tools where they are,” Grae requested, ushering them out of the door. “I need to take a closer look at this now. Have a pleasant day.”

                The lab door closed and locked behind Venom, and the four of them stood there in silence for a moment, until they were sure the Professor was out of earshot.

                “It’s Cardin,” Eliza declared, cracking her knuckles. “Ten to one, he’s the guy behind this.”

                                “Hey, you heard the professor,” Marcus whispered. “We shouldn’t be focusing on how to get back at whoever did this. If we’re wrong, we just cause a bigger issue.”

                Eliza backed down grudgingly, but Nero wasn’t so easily convinced. His black beanie twitched as the ears underneath shifted around, and his nails were raking furrows into one of his textbooks.

                “It had better not be him,” he growled as they left for Grimm Studies. “I’ll have to test how strong that armor of his really is.”

 

                “Go, go, go, go!” the crowd chanted as Eliza and Nora each folded an arm behind their backs mid-push up, sweat beading on their brows. The two had locked eyes with each other, both of them refusing to look away as the contest between them continued past one hundred and fifty push ups.

                “Ready to call it quits, Miss Valkyrie?” Eliza taunted, lowering herself down to the ground once more as her face started turning pink. “I can keep this up just as long as you can.”

                “Ha! I ain’t losing this round, Blondie!” Nora fired back, despite her own breath growing labored. “After I beat you, I’ll still be able to run a mile without a problem. Just watch me!”

                Marcus stood on the sidelines, watching closely as the competitors began to slow their pace. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see Yang Xiao-Long smirking at him knowingly.

                “Looks like Nora might crap out early this time,” she muttered to him, elbowing her way to the inner ring of the crowd. “Sure you don’t want to back out now?”

                Marcus pretended to mull the question over for all of two seconds before shaking his head. “Remind me how much you bet on Eliza again?” he requested with a smile. “Wasn’t it something like twenty lien? I think you’re getting nervous, Yang.”

                “Pffft, nervous? Nah, you’re imagining things,” Yang replied unconvincingly, snapping finger guns in Marcus’ direction. “I just feel bad that you’re about to lose all of that…”

                There was a gasp of shock as Eliza went down for another push up, only to collapse heavily against the floor with a groan while Nora kept going. Yang’s jaw dropped, and Marcus quickly held out his hand.

                “Twenty lien, friendo,” he reminded her with a satisfied smile. “I guess luck wasn’t on your side this time.”

                Yang grumbled something about breaking even in the next bet as she jammed her hands into her pockets and pulled out four green cards, handing them over to Marcus as discreetly as she could. Marcus counted the money and gave the blonde a thumbs up while Verris pulled Eliza to her feet. Her face was beet-red, and it seemed she was ready to pass out as Nero tossed her a water bottle.

                “I thought I had you on this one,” Eliza wheezed at the still energized Nora. “Nice job.”

                                “What can I say? These guns are lethal!” Nora replied, flexing theatrically as Ren rolled his eyes behind her. “Not that you didn’t give me a run for my money. How much have you been lifting?”

                “Full set on the bar, every other day,” Eliza gasped between gulps of water. “Maxed last week.”

                                “Not bad at all, Lizzy,” Nora whistled, stretching a bit before plopping down on the other side of the table. “You might actually beat me soon. Might.”

                The crowd started to disappear now that the contest had ended. It was the fourth such matchup between Eliza and Nora, and Nora was still undefeated. The two had taken one look at each other’s weapons during combat class and were now locked in a continual contest of strength, despite Eliza somehow always falling just a little short of her rival. The betting pool on the two, as Marcus had quickly discovered, was surprisingly lucrative, a fact Yang had made certain to keep hidden from her younger sister.

                “So, round five on the weekend?” Eliza asked, and Nora’s smile widened even more than usual as she accepted the offer.

                “Flexed arm-hang for the next one,” Nora said. “We’ll even the playing field a bit.”

                                There was a loud crash from somewhere behind the three teams, and every head turned to see Cardin and his cronies laughing as Jaune picked himself up off of the floor (and out of his spilled food). Pyrrha’s grip tightened around her fork, and Marcus had a feeling she would like nothing better than to fling it in Cardin’s direction.

                “Hey guys,” Jaune said sheepishly as he cleaned the quite literal egg off of his face. “Sorry I missed the end of the match. Did Nora win again?”

                Eliza looked mildly offended, muttering something like “dude, come on” under her breath. All eyes were still on Jaune as Pyrrha put a hand on his shoulder.

                “You don’t have to just lie down and take that from Cardin,” she told him earnestly, even as his face turned a deeper red. “We’ve got your back on this one.”

                “If there’s a line for kicking Cardin’s obnoxious ass, I’m first in line,” Nero remarked, his butter knife having somehow managed to work its way into the table. “Kid has it coming.”

                “I wasn’t saying that violence is the answer here…” Pyrrha started to say.

                                “You’re on his bad side too, I take it?” Blake interrupted, finally putting her book down for a moment. “Should I ask, or is it just because of who he is as a person?”

                “Implying that Cardin has a good side,” Marcus commented before stuffing his face with mashed potatoes.

                “Well, let’s see,” Nero said, holding up fingers to count. “I’m a faunus, I called him out on his bullshit, and the third one…well, let’s just say it’s gas on the fire.”

                Marcus’ eyes narrowed, and his grip bent the fork in his hand slightly as he looked Nero in the eyes. “He didn’t,” he said, voice shaking a bit. “What happened?”

                “Ran into him in the locker room,” Nero answered quickly, eyes on his plate. “Didn’t take him long to put it together. Ninety percent sure that’s why he tampered with our lab equipment.”

                “Okay, screw what Professor Grae said,” Marcus declared, cracking his knuckles loudly as he got up from the table. “Nora, you still want to help break his le…hey, where’d Verris go?”

                Pyrrha was the first to spot the missing leader, and she immediately let out a loud sigh of frustration as she pointed towards Cardin. “Oh, no…” she groaned, as the rest of Venom rushed towards their leader, who was currently marching towards Cardin Winchester with anger in his eyes.

                Before anyone had time to notice, Verris had snatched another’s student’s carton of milk and flung it at full force at the back of Cardin’s head. The calcium-rich projectile met its mark dead on, splattering its contents all over Cardin’s armor with a wet smack. The lunch room went silent as Cardin froze mid-laugh, processing what had just happened as something cold and wet dripped down his perfectly combed hair before turning around to face his new target. His eyes widened like saucers as they locked on Verris, who was tapping his foot impatiently, arms crossed in front of him.

                “You looked like you needed some cooling off, Winchester,” Verris taunted, his green-furred tail twitching behind him in anticipation. Cardin stood several inches taller than himself and was armored, but Verris was seeing too much red to care in the moment. “How’s it feel?”

                “What the hell is your problem, furball?!” Cardin demanded, stomping angrily towards Verris with clenched fists, although the effect was ruined by milk still dripping from his armor. “Someone piss in your litterbox this morning?”

                “No, but someone clearly pissed in your gene pool,” Verris shot back, his expression not wavering for even a moment as a vein began visibly twitching in Cardin’s forehead. “Seriously, you’re the worst accident I’ve ever seen that wasn’t on a highway.”

                Other students began backing away warily from the two, while the rest of Team Cardinal looked expectantly to their leader, who was currently speechless at the insults.

                “Okay, you know what? I’ll let you off with a warning this time, since I forgot my lint roller and I don’t like getting covered in fur,” Cardin warned, puffing out his chest. “I’ve left you alone because you don’t cause trouble. You keep your head down like a Faunus should. So get lost and never even speak to me again, or…”

                There was a resounding ‘ooooh’ from the crowd as Verris activated his Ironskin and slammed his forehead into Cardin’s, knocking the latter back several feet before he seemed to catch his balance. Team Cardinal seemed like they were ready to cut loose and beat the hell out of Verris, and Team Venom was lining up to even  the score, when both teams were pushed roughly away from each other by an invisible force field.

                “THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH, CHILDREN!” Glynda’s voice echoed through the lunchroom as she hurried towards the two teams with quick strides that made one question just how much practice she had with high heels. “This stops here, and that’s my final word on the subject. Is that clear?”

                “Ooh, getting the teacher to bail you out,” Cardin taunted, struggling against Glynda’s telekinesis. “Smart move, kitty cat. You and your freak show friends are lucky this is on school grounds, or I’d teach you and the dickless wonder a lesson…”

                “Mr. Winchester, you are not to utter another word…”

                                “Take that back, Cardin, or I’ll shove the words through your teeth,” Nero threatened, reaching impulsively for daggers that weren’t on his person at the moment. “Maybe I should let the whole school know that you wear muscle padding under your uniform…”

                “I said, THAT’S ENOUGH!” Glynda shouted again, and both teams went silent (although Eliza had to clamp her hands over Nero and Verris’ mouths). “Mr. Winchester, you and your team are to head straight to your dorm room with Professor Oobleck, now.”

                The four of them were suddenly released from Glynda’s powers, and followed a very cross-looking Oobleck out of the dining hall with as much indignation as they could muster. Then Glynda turned to face Team Venom, and all four of them immediately felt like ants under her gaze.

                “Mr. Emedio and Mr. Boudica,” she commanded. “Headmaster’s office. NOW.”

 

                Ozpin tapped a finger impatiently against his desk as the elevator display showed the car getting closer to his office. It wasn’t even noon, Dust, it wasn’t even a month into classes and a fight had already broken out among the first-years. It wasn’t unheard of, but Glynda’s report made it very clear just how serious the altercation could have become. Cardin was an excellent student, but Ozpin was well aware of his moral failings, and admitted to himself that he should have expected the boy would cause problems. If things didn’t improve by the end of the year, he already had a dismissal notice on hand for Cardin. Just in case.

                There was a soft dinging noise from the elevator as the doors slid open, and Glynda ushered in one very embarrassed Verris, and an incredibly smug Nero. Ozpin didn’t need any time at all to guess at how this meeting was going to go, and politely asked Glynda to leave them alone before reaching for his mug of coffee.

                The massive gears clanked away overhead, and Verris clearly couldn’t help but look up in amazement at the machinery. Ozpin hid his smile behind the mug; for all his strict focus on utility, he was more than happy with the theatricality of his office.

                The headmaster reached behind his desk and pulled out a bowl of yellow candies in plastic wrappers, sliding it across his desk towards the two students. “Would either of you care for a lemon drop?” he asked, watching their reactions closely. “Port insists on giving everyone a supply despite my lack of a sweet tooth, and I’d hate to waste them.”

                Verris’ eyes went back and forth from the bowl to Ozpin, who could see the wheels turning in the boy’s head as he no doubt struggled to figure out what the headmaster was up to. Nero, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate for a second and had already popped three into his mouth.

                “Don’t overthink it, Mr. Emedio, I’m not testing either of you,” Ozpin lied, although his smile was honest enough. “Your team has had a stressful week, from what I’ve heard. A creature comfort or two isn’t out of line.”

                Verris looked confused, even as he reached for one of the candies slowly. “Wait, aren’t we in trouble?” he asked, the slowness in his speech clear evidence of how many eggshells the boy imagined he was walking on.

                Ozpin leaned back in his chair, hands interlocked in front of his face. “Well, I can hardly say that it was exemplary behavior that brought you both here, but Professor Grae recently informed me that circumstances have not helped your situation recently,” he admitted calmly. “Apparently, the handwriting on those notes in your Dust Sciences class matched Cardin Winchester’s, although you clearly weren’t aware of this until now.”

                “Oh, we had a pretty good hunch it was him,” Nero mumbled past his rapidly growing mouthful of candy. “It didn’t take much thinking.”

                Ozpin paused, and nodded in acknowledgement. “Mr. Winchester’s prejudices aren’t exactly a secret now, are they? I had hoped exposure to Beacon’s diverse student body would help open his eyes somewhat, as it has for many other students, but I have yet to see anything of the sort,” the headmaster told them, taking another sip of coffee. “But Professor Grae also told you very clearly not to retaliate for what happened in the laboratory, did they not?”

                Both of the boys went silent. Verris looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else, while Nero simply glowered in his chair, arms crossed. “I see,” Ozpin continued, his smile gone now as he reached for his scroll. “Would you care to explain, then, why you ignored your instructor’s request?”

                “With all due respect, Headmaster, have you seen what Cardin does to other students in this school?” Nero blurted out, his knuckles white around the armrests of his chair. “Every passing Faunus is a target for his bullying, and no one stops him. Velvet Scarlatina had to see a doctor for how often he pulls on her ears! The asshole tried to blow us up in class, for crying out loud!”

                “Language, Mr. Boudica,” Ozpin insisted, raising a hand to suggest that Nero stop to take a breath. “So I’m to understand this was meant to be some form of justice, then? Publicly humiliate him, fight him, and maybe he’ll stop hurting Faunus, is that it?”

                “Ye…well, actually…” Nero started, but then cut himself off mid-sentence. “Look, for me, it was a private matter. Cardin went after me on a personal issue aside from just being a Faunus. I’d rather not say any more, if you don’t mind.”

                “I started it, Headmaster,” Verris confessed, his eyes on the floor. “People like Cardin are dangerous, and I wasn’t going to sit back and let him harass my teammates any more. Nero didn’t do anything wrong. Eliza and Marcus didn’t either. I lost my temper and ended up dragging them into it with me. I’m sorry.”

                Ozpin’s smile returned, more understanding than pleased. Nero had already done a double, and a triple-take at Verris, mouthing something that looked like “don’t be an idiot” at him silently before Ozpin nodded thoughtfully.

                “Is this true, Mr. Boudica?” he asked, although he already knew the answer. “You and your teammates were only supporting each other, is that right?”

                Nero stammered over his words for a moment. “Well, it’s not that…I mean, I wanted to fight Cardin too, but…yeah, yeah that’s what happened,” he said. “Are we in trouble?”

                “No, you can leave, Mr. Boudica,” Ozpin responded casually. “If Mr. Winchester gives you any more trouble, do not hesitate to let us know. I take this matter very seriously, and you’re not the first to voice these concerns.”

                “Hmph,” Nero grunted as he stepped into the elevator. “No offense, Headmaster, but if you’re taking this seriously, then maybe you should do something more about it.”

                The doors slid shut, and Verris made an obvious effort to avoid eye contact with Ozpin, who found himself dumbfounded for the first time in a while. It was rare that a student spoke so frankly to him, but the boy had a point. Perhaps he had been too lenient with Winchester…

                “Mr. Emedio, I’m more than pleased that you’re willing to go to such lengths for your teammates in such a short time, especially given your lack of prior team cooperation” Ozpin said, sighing loudly. “But I worry that your encounter with Team Cardinal may have the opposite effect of what you intended. Think about it; a Faunus he’s elected to leave alone publicly humiliates him, insults him in what I admit are some of the more creative put-downs I’ve heard in my time, and then goes so far as to start a fight with him. What do you think Cardin’s reaction will be?”

                Verris’ ears lowered in clear embarrassment as Ozpin let him process his mistake, although the headmaster took no satisfaction from it. Team Venom had their hearts in the right place; that had never been a doubt in his mind. However, how they chose to direct that energy was…questionable.

                “Verris, I understand how it must feel to see someone like Cardin acting this way, especially for you,” Ozpin said, weighing his words carefully. “Believe me, Cardin is not a student I would choose to represent Beacon, but violence, unlike with the Grimm, is not always the answer for sentient races. Conflict breeds more conflict. Those who turn to violence in order to gain respect only further exacerbate tensions.”

                “I know,” Verris replied, though his words were strained. “I was out of line. But I haven’t seen anyone holding Cardin accountable for what he does, even with all of the rules in place at Beacon. We didn’t have much choice.”

                Ozpin grimaced. The boy was missing his point, but he had an equally valid one.

                                “Choice or not, there is a time and a place for everything,” Ozpin continued with a wry smile. “Personally, I would have suggested challenging him in Glynda’s Combat Training course. It wouldn’t have been such an obviously personal conflict. Don’t you have that class tomorrow, actually?”

                “Sir?”

                                “Oh, nevermind,” the Headmaster laughed, pulling a fresh mug of coffee from below his desk. “You may go, Mr. Emedio. Just promise me that you’ll find a better way to handle issues like these in the future. Oh, and do try to consult your team before rushing headlong into a situation. Best you learn that now rather than later.”

                “I understand, Headmaster,” Verris said quickly, heading for the elevator. “It won’t happen again.”

                “Just make sure it doesn’t land you in trouble, in case it does,” Ozpin said, waving goodbye with a smile.


	8. Episode Seven: Nightmares and Dignity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verris' past comes back to him in his dreams, and his sense of self-doubt grows. Meanwhile, Eliza and Nero take over to settle the score with Team CRDL.
> 
> Notice: The Author is aware of his tenuous business relationship with the fourth wall, and would like to direct any and all concerns regarding this matter to the Firm of Fight Me and Sons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: PTSD, Parental Abuse, Strong Language, Violence, Mind Control-ish.

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?” Aethyr’s voice rang out through the empty hallways of Beacon. “You always were a simple child.”

                Verris took a step back, not even noticing the way his footsteps failed to make a single sound on the polished stone floors. Where was everyone else? How did Aethyr find him?

                _Wait, she was bound to figure it out eventually_ , he thought, feeling the color leave his face as the hallway stretched away before him, drawing his monster of a mother closer. Her flail, Shattered Earth, suddenly appeared in her hand. How had she been hiding that?

                “I should have killed you a long time ago, vermin,” she hissed, dragging her flail across the ground menacingly. “To even think that my bloodline is tainted by something like you makes my skin crawl.”

                Verris turned to run, only to find that his legs moved like he was waist deep in tar. Aethyr’s footsteps grew louder behind him, closer and closer with each passing second. Verris had endured this before, had suffered her threats and felt her fist against his ribs too many times to count, but he was never sure.

                Would this finally be it? Would she finally kill him?

                                Where was Eliza? Nero? Marcus? He shouted their names, sobbing as he struggled to escape his mother. She had him now.

                She grabbed him by the back of his neck, and Verris pleaded for her to release him, as he always did. Her grip simply tightened, and he felt his vision go blurry as that horrid, horrid semblance of hers echoed around the room.

                “Cut those disgusting ears of yours off,” she commanded him, and Verris’ heart sank. That voice of hers didn’t give him an option to argue, only to comply and stay fully aware of what he was being forced to do.

                He tried to call out for help, his vocal cords seizing on each name he tried to pronounce until a weak voice, the voice of a child, managed one sentence.

                “Pyrrha,” it cried. “Please, help me.”

                                _Why her? Why would I ever ask her to help?_

“I’m sorry,” was the only response, in that unmistakable, perpetually apologetic, infuriatingly earnest tone of hers. “I’ll leave you alone from now on.”

                The knife that had appeared in Verris’ hand inched ever closer to the cat’s ears poking out above his hair…

                _Someone, please help…_

He could feel the knife pressing against his ears, and a scream escaped his lips as hundreds of empty faces emerged from the shadows to watch in sullen silence…

 

                Verris awoke drenched in sweat, his heart racing and his breath shallow as his eyes scanned the darkened dorm room around him. Marcus and Nero lay quietly in their shared bed on the other side of the room, Marcus snoring loudly as usual. Eliza’s privacy curtain remained draped in front of her mattress as it always did once night fell.

                He was safe. Aethyr was nowhere near the school. Verris reached for the ears on top of his head, letting out a deep sigh of relief as he felt the furred points poking out of his lime green hair. His voice shook as he muttered “thank Dust” just a bit louder than he intended.

                He reached for the clock at his bedside; it was 5:30 in the morning. With his sheets still drenched and cold with his own sweat, Verris climbed out of his bed quietly, grabbing his uniform as he went to change and get ready for the day ahead.

                _I’m okay_ , Verris told himself as he got dressed, repeating the phrase like a mantra in his head. _I’m okay. I’m safe. Everything is fine._

None of it could convince him. Tears still stained his eyes, and he wiped them away spitefully as quick as he could. He was NOT weak. Aethyr had no power over him anymore.

                _Then why am I like this?_ he asked, holding his head in his hands as he slouched to the floor, grinding his teeth as if it could keep the fear at bay. _Why can’t I get away from her?_

_Damn it, Verris, SNAP OUT OF IT!_

There was a soft knock on the door, bringing Verris back from his fit of terror. He’d been careless and woke someone up. He’d apologize later.

                “I’ll be out in a second,” he replied in a soft voice, angry at how shaky it still was. “Sorry.”

                                “No, you’re fine,” Eliza’s voice said from the other side, barely a whisper. “You’re just up really early…Verris, are you okay? You sound upset.”

                He took a couple of short breaths, trying to regain his composure before answering in as controlled a tone as possible. “I’m fine, just got something caught in my throat,” he lied, standing back up slowly as he looked in the mirror. “You should get some more sleep. We’ve got a big match today.”

                “…If you say so, Verris,” Eliza responded, tiptoeing away from the door as Verris gripped the edge of the sink tightly.

                He would not cave to this. He would win. He would be better. He would overcome now as he had before.

                _I have to beat her_ , he told himself, as that flame-haired nightmare popped into his head again. _Just once, I need to win. Then this will all go away._

                Nero was practically twitching in his seat with anxiousness as he watched Marcus and Pyrrha duke it out on the combat floor. He and Eliza had claimed the next fight, against Cardin and Russel. Marcus and Verris had both been eager to take the opportunity, but Glynda had flat out refused to let Verris anywhere near a combat situation with Cardin, and Marcus had already been challenged by Sanctum’s invincible fighter. This was a matter of personal honor now; Nero was determined to bring Cardin to heel before class ended.

                Still, none of that distracted Nero from the fight at hand. Marcus and Pyrrha had been going at it for about two minutes now, neither one able to gain a distinct lead over the other. True, Pyrrha had the advantage of a shield, but Marcus had learned well enough how to fight without one.

                The fight looked more like the two were dancing around each other than anything else, with Marcus spinning and rolling out of the line of fire quicker than Pyrrha could track him. On the other end, Pyrrha’s lunges and slashes seemed endless, a flurry of motion that never lost momentum.

                Nero smiled; Marcus could still win this fight, even if they were both already in the yellow on aura.

                Marcus held his spear at waist height, charging straight towards Pyrrha in what looked to be a head-on attack. Pyrrha lowered her shield, ready to deflect the blow, only for Marcus to drop to his knees and transition into a spinning slash along the ground at the last second. She hardly had time to react, clearing the attack by a fraction of an inch as she flipped through the air above Marcus and flung her shield at his chest.

                The counterattack struck true, Pyrrha’s shield slamming Marcus to the ground before flying back into her hand like a boomerang as she landed, ready for more. Up on the screen, Marcus’ aura dropped closer to the red zone, and Nero winced. It was rare that anyone could anticipate one of Marcus’ feints, but it wouldn’t happen again.

                To Nero’s right, Verris sat silently, his eyes fixed on Pyrrha’s every attack, evasion, and adjustment. He appeared to be studying the fight, taking mental notes on her attack patterns. Eliza seemed like she knew something about the matter that Nero didn’t, but he was done trying to coax the story out of the two of them. That road was a distinct dead end.

                Pyrrha launched her spear at Marcus, straight at his knees, only for the boy to twirl away from the attack and smack Pyrrha in the side with his spear. Her aura meter wavered on the screen over the stage for a moment, and Marcus smiled widely, the way he always did when he knew he had won. But before he could follow up, Pyrrha had retrieved her spear and bashed Marcus in the side of the face with her shield, finally dropping him into the red zone and ending the fight. Glynda quickly stepped into the ring and held up her riding crop, signaling that the match was over for safety reasons.

                “Once again, Ms. Nikos is the victor,” she said, almost tiredly. “Class, be sure to pay attention to what you see on-stage. Mr. Avalok, can you tell us where you lost the advantage in this round?”

                Marcus was still picking himself up off of the floor at the moment, and shook his head. “I mean, if I had to guess, it was when I got smacked in the face with a metal shield the size of a tire,” he suggested with a smirk.

                “Sorry!” Pyrrha apologized, one of her hands going to the back of her neck the way she always did when she was feeling self-conscious.

                Glynda simply rolled her eyes at Marcus’ response, pointing towards the on-screen replay overhead. “Please do try to take this seriously, Mr. Avalok,” she told him. “Take a close look at your last motion. Ms. Nikos is very clearly keeping the momentum in her spin going well before you’re within range, but you didn’t disengage.”

                “Tunnel-vision bad, got it,” Marcus acknowledged with a casual nod. “I’ll be sure to watch out for that from now on.”

                “We can hope,” Glynda muttered, looking through a list on her scroll as Pyrrha and Marcus shook hands. “The next round is a doubles fight. Ms. Aurum and Mr. Boudica, your competitors will be Mr. Winchester and Mr. Thrush.”

                A small smile spread across Nero’s lips as Verris offered him and Eliza fist bumps. “Good luck, you two,” he muttered quietly, his ears perked up in excitement. “Wreck them.”

                Nero’s smile returned in spite of himself, while Eliza just wrinkled her nose in response. It didn’t seem like she was the biggest fan of settling this whole issue violently, but no one doubted she’d give it her all anyway.

                Marcus high-fived Nero as the two passed before taking a seat next to Verris. “Wish I could’ve jumped in on this fight,” he told the team leader as stretched out. “But I guess having a ringside seat to watch isn’t too bad either.”

                Verris smiled, but didn’t respond. He was watching the replay of Marcus’ fight on his scroll, swiping back and forth between scenes apparently at random. Marcus tapped him on the shoulder, and Verris quickly stowed his scroll.

                “Sorry,” he said, eyes back on the combat ring. “Taking notes.”

                                “Well, how about taking notes on this one instead?” Marcus offered, while Nero and Eliza took their places opposite Cardin and Russel. “Show some team spirit, man.”

                Glynda stepped off to the side of the ring, adjusting the display so the new competitors were visible above, all of them maxed out on aura. “I’d like to make it clear that this class is for the purposes of training in combat and learning from your opponents,” she said, casting a pointed look at Nero. “I expect all matches in my course to be clean and honest.”

                Cardin simply hefted his mace over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at Glynda. Nero twirled his daggers experimentally, shifting his gaze from Cardin to Russell repeatedly.

                _CRDL is all offense_ , he told himself, weighing the situation. _They’ve got strength and energy, but there’s no teamwork. Gotta exploit that somehow, make them slip up._

“Stick close together,” Nero whispered to Eliza as Glynda began the countdown. “I’ll cover you, but you’ve got the shield.”

                “Bring them in close?” Eliza whispered back, her heavy armor clanking menacingly.

                                “You’ve got it.”

                “Begin!” Glynda announced, and Cardin immediately launched himself into a leaping overhead strike, while Russell ducked to the side, daggers glinting in his hands.

                Before the strike could connect, Nero ducked around Eliza as she raised her shield to block the attack with a loud clang. The force of the impact jarred her arm, but not enough that she couldn’t fling Cardin off the shield with a quick shove.

                Russell slid in from the side, moving to strike at Eliza while her shield was still raised. Nero spotted him at the last second and batted Russell’s daggers aside with his own, following up with a quick paired slash at his chest. The counter missed, but forced Russell to flip backwards, unaware that Cardin was winding up for another strike behind him.

                The mace’s handle connected with Russell before either of them could react, and the crowd winced as Russell’s aura immediately dropped into the yellow zone in a single hit. The momentary distraction was all that Nero needed, and he tapped Eliza on the shoulder insistently.

                She got the message, and started charging at their competitors at top speed, her massive shield raised in what looked like a ramming attack. Cardin spun around to strike at Eliza’s legs as she entered his range, only for Nero to vault over the both of them and blast Cardin right in the face with a cloud of burn Dust powder.

                Cardin squeezed his eyes shut and began coughing violently as he tried to clear the air blindly. Nero, who had landed behind him, used the moment to flip forward into a flying kick, both feet connecting solidly with Cardin’s back and knocking him back towards Eliza, who followed up by striking their off balance opponent with a massive slam from her shield.

                Nero ducked under Cardin as he sailed over head, hooking one of the daggers into an armor strap and letting momentum slice the leather apart. Glynda caught the stray shin guard in one hand, almost casually, while Cardin tried to regain his footing. The combo attack had been enough to knock him into the yellow zone right alongside his teammate.

                _Speaking of which…_ , Nero thought, turning his attention to Russell, who had recovered and shifted his daggers into a reverse grip.

                Russell hooked his daggers around Eliza’s shield quicker than she could stop him, and wrenched the metal slab away from her arm desperately. The shield slammed to the ground, cracking the tile floor slightly where it landed, while Russell slashed away at Eliza, who blocked each strike with her armored forearms. Each attack only chipped away at a small portion of her aura, but it was adding up fast.

                Nero ran straight to her side; he knew better than to try and lift Eliza’s shield himself. He dropped to the floor and slid, digging one dagger into the ground as an anchor. The weapon changed his direction mid-slide into a low kick at Russell’s ankles, knocking the overzealous fighter to the ground. Nero then grabbed him by the leg, spinning as he flung the boy towards the wall. He wasn’t out of the fight yet, but everyone could see that Russell was dangerously close to hitting the red zone.

                Eliza wasn’t faring much better. Her armor and sheer volume of aura had tanked most of the hits, but she was wavering at the halfway point on her meter. Nero nodded towards her shield, and she quickly strapped the tool back onto her arm before activating the helmet on her armor. Nero flipped Orcus and Poena so that both of them had their Dust sprayers aimed at either opponent. They had to end this quick, but all Nero could feel was vindication as he looked at Cardin.

                Stripped of the armor on his left leg, Cardin had suffered an insult beyond normal combat, and Nero relished it. The boy was tightening his grip around the mace angrily, even as his aura flickered.

                _I told you, Cardin_ , Nero thought with a satisfied smile as his fingers squeezed around the Dust triggers. _I told you, I’ll shove those insults back through your teeth._

                Russell was the first to attack, only to be caught in mid-air by Eliza’s gauntleted hand around his face, lifting him off his feet as he was forced to drop his daggers. Eliza held him there for half of a second and whispered something in a voice too quiet for Glynda to hear.

                “No one hurts my team,” she told Russell. “This is your warning.”

                                Before Russell could respond, Eliza urged Nero to duck, and threw Russell straight at his teammate. Cardin side-stepped his friend easily, but Russell had dropped into the red and was out of the fight. Now it was just Cardin against both of them. His eyes flicked back and forth from Eliza to Nero, and a forced smile of confidence spread across his face with all the believability of a ‘Flat Remnant’ preacher’s ranting.

                “This isn’t over,” he scoffed, dragging his mace on the ground as he approached. “Eliza’s still fighting with a handicap on her team.”

                The class gasped at the insult, and all eyes went to Marcus, who was shaking in his seat. Verris, who seemed to be doing his best to restrain his friend, looked to be ready to lose control himself. Glynda’s mouth was still hanging open as she clearly tried to figure out how to respond, but all attention went back to Eliza as nine more of her, all fully armored, suddenly appeared in the ring behind Nero. Cardin blanched; if he had paid attention in other classes, he would’ve known what her semblance could do, and now it was marching towards him with the triumphant rumble of all Elizas bashing their shields in perfect sync. The fight had gone from two against one to ten against one, and Nero hadn’t even been scratched yet.

                Nero quickly circled around behind Cardin while Eliza’s armored copies advanced menacingly from the front. No one attacked, but Cardin kept changing his stance to keep both opponents in view. The shield-bashing grew louder and louder as Eliza drew near…

                Cardin made his decision, whirling around with his mace at Nero and striking only thin air as the boy ducked under the strike and swung his daggers at Cardin’s now-exposed back. The paired strike quickly transitioned into a flurry of overhead strikes and spinning slashes, one hand keeping Cardin from raising his mace again while the other batted him back and forth like a ragdoll. As Cardin’s aura neared the red, Nero shot a cloud of bolt Dust into the air and absorbed it through one hand, aiming his other straight at Cardin’s chest…

                Nero’s semblance fired a beam of lightning from his outstretched palm and into Cardin’s armor, the blast finally knocking Cardin into the invisible barrier around the combat ring and visibly shattering his Aura before he slumped to the ground. Glynda stepped into the ring and raised her riding crop, and the screen overhead displayed the results: Nero and Eliza had won in a landslide.

                Eliza’s clones vanished, and Nero twirled his daggers dramatically before sheathing them again at his hips as he high-fived Eliza. She’d taken more hits than he had expected, but she was still beaming from ear to ear as her helmet disappeared into the collar of her armor. They’d both need to be more careful next time.

                “Well, that was certainly unconventional,” Glynda commented as Cardin and Russell picked themselves up off of the floor. “Definitely an improvement in teamwork, but I’d advise you to avoid using your opponents as projectiles from now on.”

                Nero simply shrugged in response, while Eliza’s face went a bit red. “However, you all could stand to learn from this fight,” Glynda continued, facing the rest of the class. “If you can’t fight as a team, you will lose. That is guaranteed, no matter how strong you think you are.”

                The school bell rang loudly over the speakers, and Glynda checked her watch. “That’s all for today,” Glynda said, even though she was hardly audible over the sound of books being shoved back into bags and chairs scooting across the floor. “As usual, if you would like to reserve a fight in advance for the next class on Monday, please notify me using your Beacon student portal.”

                Nero caught a brief glimpse of Verris finalizing a fight reservation on his scroll as they left the ring, although he couldn’t see who he had challenged. Their teammates were practically racing down the stairs to congratulate them, and Eliza picked them all up off of the ground in a crushing bear hug.

                “Did you see that? Did it look as awesome as it felt, because that felt like the coolest fight we’ve ever had and I didn’t even need my shield for half of it…”

                “Eliza, breathe,” Verris wheezed past her grip. “Actually, I think the rest of us would like to breathe as well. No offense.”

                Eliza quickly let go of her team, and Marcus’ face became noticeably less blue. “Sorry!” she said, clearly too excited by the victory to care much more. “I just feel like I could take on five Ursa right now…”

                “With your aura half depleted?” Verris asked, smiling.

                                “Okay, maybe Nora in an arm wrestling contest,” she conceded, mulling the concept over in her head. “Actually, it might be time for a rematch anyway…”

                Verris rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t fade at all. Nero and Marcus were already going through their secret handshake’s third phase when Glynda loudly cleared her throat.

                “Class is over, you four,” she reminded them, tapping her watch insistently. “Please, feel free to celebrate outside. I need to scrape some students off of the floor.”

                Nero caught a subtle thumbs-up from Glynda as they left, and his pride swelled in the exact same way that a suitable metaphor for this would describe ( **author’s note: fuck you, this is the sentence you’re getting** ). As Team Venom closed the door behind them, they found the entirety of Team Coffee, a group of second years, waiting for them.

                Eliza must have been setting a personal record for how often her face could go that shade of red in one day, because she seemed redder than Ruby’s cloak when Coco Adel offered her a handshake, adjusting her expensive designer shades with the other hand.

                “Not bad for a first-year team,” Coco joked, sporting her infamous smirk as she went down the line. “Team Cardinal is clumsier than Professor Port’s lectures, but it’s still so gratifying to see someone put them in their place.”

                Nero looked behind Coco and saw Velvet Scarlatina, practically on the edge of tears. Coco stepped aside and gestured for her to speak up. “You had something you wanted to say to them, bright-eyes?” she said.

                “Yeah. Um, what you did…” Velvet started, her Vacuoan accent even thicker than Marcus and Nero’s. “I just…well I know it’s just part of class, but thank you. Thank you all for standing up to Cardin. So…does he really wear muscle padding under the armor?”

                Nero nodded with a self-satisfied grin. “Absolutely,” he confirmed, and Velvet forced her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “The jerk weighs like seventy pounds soaking wet.”

                “Now that is interesting information to know,” Coco remarked slyly, writing down a note on her scroll. “We still have business with his team, but for now, we all owe you a solid. Now, where is Mr. Winchester…”

                “Coco, no…” Velvet started.

                                “Um, Coco yes,” Coco replied, popping her neck to one side. “Coco, yes, in a very stylish and violent manner.”

                Marcus urgently gestured away from Coffee, his eyes on the classroom door. “We should probably clear the area,” he suggested casually. “I’ve seen Coco fight, and it’s not pretty.”

                The other three seemed to agree, and quickly powerwalked as calmly away from the coming fight as they could before relaxing. Somewhere behind them, Cardin’s voice quickly went from deep to a high pitched squeal of pain. Verris winced involuntarily.

                “Sorry for forcing us into that fight, by the way,” he said. “You two handled it great, but I kind of dove in without thinking about it.”

                Nero and Marcus both exchanged confused glances. “Um, if you didn’t start it, we would have,” Nero corrected him. “Marcus and I were already about to break his legs when we noticed you were missing.”

                “That’s fair,” Verris agreed. “But seriously, that was some incredible teamwork out there. They didn’t stand a chance against you two!”

                “Was there ever any doubt?” Marcus asked, flexing obnoxiously. “We ARE the best team in our class, after all. Cardin just needs to get it through his thick skull.”

                “Not that Verris didn’t try to do that already,” Eliza pointed out, shifting the shield on her arm. “I think he may still have been concussed during the fight today.”

                “Dust, I hope so,” Marcus said. “Wait, no I don’t. I hope he felt every one of those hits.”

                                As they reached an intersection in the hallway, Verris split off from the group while the other three went to store their combat gear for the day. Nero saw a massive smile on his face before he disappeared from sight.

                “That’s nice,” he commented to himself, finally feeling the strain from using his semblance earlier. “He seems different today?”

                “How so?” Eliza asked. “He’s always awkward, isn’t he?”

                                “Says the girl who trips over her own words around her second-year crush,” Marcus jabbed playfully. “Or was I reading that wrong? Got your eyes on a sugar mama?”

                Eliza fumed silently as her face went deep red again, and she squeaked a bit instead of responding.

                “No, I mean…Verris seems happy for once,” Nero explained. “It’s a nice change.”

                                “He was really stressing over this fight today,” Eliza added, having found her voice again. “I talked to him this morning, and he seemed worried that one of us was going to get hurt. He’s probably just relieved.”

                “He told you that?” Nero asked as they reached their dorm room. “That’s unusually straightforward for him.”

                “Well, he didn’t tell me in those words,” Eliza admitted, sliding her shield under her bed. “It was in the way he spoke. I could just be guessing.”

                Nero shrugged and threw himself onto the bed, dropping his daggers carelessly on the floor nearby. “That sounds more like him,” he yawned. “I am seriously exhausted right now. And hungry. Uggggh, decisions. Marcus, make something for me?”

                Marcus threw his hands out defensively in response. “Hey, you still have your aura intact. I just got knocked around by Pyrrha for three minutes straight,” he complained, before making the mistake of seeing Nero’s puppy eyes. “Alright fine, but its coming straight out of the can, you heck.”

                “You the best,” Nero told him with a smile, before proceeding to roll across the bed and absorb the blankets into a fabric burrito around him.

                “What about you, Nero?” Eliza asked earnestly, slipping her armor off loudly behind the privacy curtain. “You feeling better after that fight?”

                “I mean, it felt good to knock that asshole around for a while, yeah,” Nero responded, wiggling in his blanket cocoon until he was facing Eliza. “I don’t think he’ll mess with us again, especially with Ozpin keeping an eye on his behavior now.”

                “Wait, Ozpin is getting involved now?” Eliza asked, emerging from behind the curtain in her shorts and “burgers are my gains” tank top. “Nevermind. I mean, are you okay? We all heard what Cardin said to you yesterday. Fighting probably didn’t hurt, and planting his face in the ground is so cathartic and…you understand what I’m getting at, right?”

                “Oh,” Nero mumbled, catching on quick. “Yeah, that stuff hurts, but that’s on Cardin for being a transphobic shit _._ If he says anything like that again, I’ll put him on the ground again. He’s not one of the people who can learn better.”

                Eliza sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Well, so long as you’re doing better, that’s enough for me. For us, really,” Eliza said, grabbing a shake from the fridge. “I’m glad we can put this to rest.”

                Marcus smiled, but said nothing as he dug through the pantry for food. He was still furious on the inside for not stepping in between Cardin and Nero sooner, for not planting Cardin face-first into an Ursa’s jaws during the Emerald Forest trials. A familiar heat was building up from the base of his spine and spreading to his neck. He wanted to hurt Cardin for real, to break his legs until he couldn’t walk anymore…

                Suddenly, Marcus felt Nero’s hand on his shoulder, and the anger was gone as he turned around. He became aware that the metal can of macaroni was being crushed in his own fingers, and took a deep, calming breath. Nero was sneaky as hell when he needed to be.

                “Marcus, I’m fine now,” he said, keeping his voice low as Eliza slumped down onto her bed. “You don’t have to beat yourself up over this.”

                Marcus let go of the can in his hand and relaxed a bit. He hated this ability and how hard it was to control. One of these days, it was going to break loose, and that scared him.

                But it was never going to get loose so long as Nero was around.              


	9. Episode Eight: Late Nights and Burger Joints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza enjoys a little down time with Yang and Ruby after class. Verris' condition worsens. The dramatic notes of Beethoven's Fifth are likely being played ironically in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings this time. Good wholesome content for now.

Eliza was up later than usual for a Thursday night. Professor Port had, as usual, failed to get anywhere with his lectures on Grimm behavior once someone brought up his own hunting stories. There was no way the man had killed so many Grimm, especially not a Goliath with a toothpick as he claimed, but at least the class wasn’t boring. He was sweet, and even if he clearly played favorites towards the girls in his class, he was an effective teacher when he needed to be. Eliza was still stifling laughter from Weiss’ scuffle with the Boarbatusk earlier. The snow queen ate her words really quickly in that fight.

                Still, Port’s unconventional method of teaching meant there was always more studying to be done outside of class, no matter how much he talked before the bell rang. Tonight’s essay was over the Beringel, an ape-like Grimm with a reputation for being hard to take down. Well, that was all Eliza had been able to glean from her textbook thus far. It was one in the morning, and the coffee was no longer helping to stave off her tiredness. She needed to get this done now or she’d be behind the rest of the class.

                “The Beringel is a larger class of Grimm, slightly taller than the average human with an ape-like physique…” Eliza mumbled to herself for the third time, her head resting on her hands as her eyes scanned the woefully blank text file in front of her. “Known for its brute strength and durability against conventional weapons, the discovery of the Beringel represented a huge leap forward in the study of Grimm as…”

                That was it. As….what? Words failed her, and her grade was riding on the meager knowledge she had been able to dig up from a textbook that lead her nowhere. How was she supposed to know why Beringels mattered? They were dangerous, like all Grimm. The only important bit was how to avoid or destroy them.

                Eliza sat there in the kitchen, slumped back in defeat against her chair as she attempted to will the rest of the paper into existence before sighing softly and heading for the fridge.

                _I’ve been at this for hours_ , she thought, rifling through the fridge until she found her stash of cookies at the back. _I deserve a treat. A treat and a break._

Eliza pulled the box out of the fridge as quietly as she could. Mint chocolate was her favorite flavor, and her parents had sent a supply all the way from Atlas’ capital. There had been a note attached: “To make sure our little girl can take home with her –Mom and Dad”. None of her teammates seemed too interested in them, but Eliza had no intention of sharing these. She snuck the box to her seat, peeling back the plastic as slowly as she could, even though it still crinkled loudly.

                None of them would hear. Verris slept like a rock, Marcus drowned everything out, and Nero was probably so used to Marc’s snoring that nothing could wake him. The cookies would be safe.

                Eliza had finally peeled just enough of the plastic back from the tray below to reach one of the sweet, sweet wafers. She reached in and plucked one out with her fingertips, and popped it into her mouth before crunching down into the cool, biting center.

                One quickly became two, two became four, four became the whole box, and before she could stop herself, Eliza had devoured every last one, left only with chocolate stained fingers and a mint cooled tongue. Eliza took a moment to process what she’d done, and held back a frustrated groan. Of all the things to stress-eat, she had to go through the one snack she wanted to savor.

                There was a noise in the bedroom area, and Eliza froze as she always did whenever it was late at night and she wasn’t in bed yet. There was heavy panting, and Eliza heard crying and muttering, both growing louder. Someone was having a nightmare.

                Eliza hesitated as she found herself stuck between trying to wake them up and letting them sleep when Verris sat bolt upright in bed, his hair a mess and his eyes wide as dinner plates. He looked around the room like he was trying to spot an attacker of some sort, and his breathing slowly returned to normal. Eliza didn’t move.

                _Come on, let me help you, just this once_ , she thought, remembering very clearly how trying to help Verris with personal matters had gone before. It felt awful watching their leader insist on taking everything on alone.

                Verris was halfway to the bathroom when it seemed he finally realized that Eliza was awake as well, and he stopped in place, groggily rolling words around in his mouth before speaking.

                “What…what are you still up for?” he asked, squinting at the kitchen clock. “It’s a school night. You need your sleep.”

                _So I guess we’re not going to talk about what just happened_ , Eliza realized, casually sliding the empty box of cookies off of the counter and into the trash. “I’m trying to finish an essay for Professor Port,” she answered softly, gesturing to the screen in front of her. “I’m supposed to be talking about the Beringel and how it changed Grimm research, but I’m coming up with squat.”

                Immediately, all traces of tiredness vanished from Verris’ face as he read the tiny paragraph that was her essay. “This is over the Beringel species?” he repeated, and Eliza nodded. “Give me just a second.”

                Verris dashed back to his bed and pulled out an intimidating stack of books, each with a heavily worn cover and loose binding. He set it down next to Eliza and quickly began thumbing through the top book on the stack, dog-earing a page before he closed that book and moved onto the next one. Eliza simply stared in surprise as the stack was whittled down to nothing in minutes. Finally, Verris chose two of the books, and slid them over to Eliza.

                “I’ve marked the sections you’ll need for the essay,” he said, opening to the dog-eared pages. “Osterbilt’s book has what you need on the Beringel species, and Watts has what you’ll need about the history side of it all. It should save you a lot of time.”

                “Wow…uh, thanks,” Eliza slurred tiredly, struggling to read through the pages Verris had marked. “I’ll…uh…I’ll…”

                “Get started?” Verris finished for her, taking a closer look. “Eliza, are you sure you don’t want to put this off until the morning? Port’s class isn’t until noon.”

                “No…I need to get this done now,” Eliza mumbled, even as she struggled to keep her eyes open. The words seemed like they were blurring across the page now. “Jus’ point me to the right…the right…page, and I’ll take it from there.”

                Verris sighed. “Alright, but I’m helping,” he told her, yawning widely. “Otherwise you might fall asleep on the keyboard and have a very different paper for Port in the afternoon.”

                Eliza narrowed her eyes at him, but smiled all the same. “Don’t tease me, I’m not…not a Grimm person.”

                “Oh, I doubt you’ve ever been ‘grim’ in your life,” Verris joked. “Give me a sec to wash my face and I’ll be right back out.”

                Verris disappeared into the bathroom, and Eliza rubbed her eyes blearily. These books looked old, but they were miles ahead of anything Port had given them. There were full anatomical profiles of each Grimm species and their known habitats, along with recorded discoveries about each. Verris’ careful handwriting was present in the margins on each page, adding his own questions and perspective on the monsters. The page for the Goliath species simply said “go for the legs and AVOID. THE. TRUNK.” in his writing, and Eliza had to suppress a giggle. Verris had no setting between off and on, it seemed, and their fight in the Emerald Forest proved that.

                _It makes perfect sense that you’d have this book_ , she thought as she flipped to the inside of the front cover. _I bet you’ve wanted to be a monster hunter ever since…what’s this?_

A handwritten note, not in Verris’ handwriting, was visible on the interior of the cover. Eliza squinted as she made out the jagged, but legible, script.

                “Verris, if you’re going to be a Huntsman like you told me someday, you’ll need to learn a few things about monsters. Remember not to go out and face them alone, and please don’t tell your mother I got you this, but remember. You’re going to make us both very proud when you grow up. You’ll be the best Huntsman Mistral’s ever seen. -your father, Sear Emedio.”

                Eliza closed the book quietly as her smile grew. Whoever Verris’ father was, he seemed like a good man. She couldn’t imagine why Verris was so hesitant to talk about his home life with parents who clearly loved and supported him so much.

                She was brought out of her thoughts by the click of the bathroom door handle, and Verris emerged with a towel around his neck. He plopped down next to her and opened the book back up, flipping to the page with the Beringel on it before rambling off a long line of suggestions to her. She noticed his thumb was pressed against the inside of the front cover, twitching ever so slightly.

                “So, you can ignore Port’s textbook on this, trust me,” Verris began, his voice fading as Eliza felt herself drifting off again. “Osterbilt’s discussion of how the opposable thumb gives the Beringel an advantage is frankly a sin to leave out of course materials, but that’s Port for you…”

                Eliza finally drifted off in spite of herself, unaware of her head slumping onto Verris’ shoulder as he rolled his eyes and reached for the keyboard, typing away into the night…

 

                Eliza sat in Port’s class in sullen silence, half paying attention and half-focused on the doodles filling up her notebook’s pages. She’d woken up too close to class time to finish up her essay, despite Verris’ help, and had simply decided to give up instead of working anymore on it. She could take the hit to her grade, she knew that, but it was the principle of the issue. She didn’t want any of her professors thinking she didn’t care about their classes.

                On the other hand, at least she had shown up for class on time. Verris had burst into the lecture hall twenty minutes late, dark circles lining his eyes as he sheepishly made his way up to his seat. Port eyed him the whole time from under his bushy brows before continuing his lecture on armored Grimm species such as the Deathstalker.

                “As I was saying, class, it wasn’t until the Great Wilds Rush of PW 15 that many of these armored Grimm were discovered by surveying teams. With the Four Kingdoms having secured their borders, the need to expand and develop the land surrounding them skyrocketed, and pioneering groups found themselves facing down kinds of Grimm that had, until then, lurked out of sight of the majority population. Now, can anyone tell me what two events happened as a direct result of the Great Wilds Rush in relation to the Grimm?”

                Eliza cast an expectant look at Verris, and was surprised to see that he was nodding off in his seat instead of answering Port’s questions as he usually did. Instead, it was Weiss who spoke up.

                “Yes, Miss Schnee?” Port asked.

                                “Well, with no previous record of Deathstalkers or Lancers, the first waves of explorers from the Kingdoms of Vale and Vacuo were caught horribly unprepared and were wiped out almost immediately after contact with the creatures,” Weiss answered haughtily, over-enunciating each word. “This lead to the development of weapons with high capabilities in breaking through armor and solid barriers.”

                Port’s mustache curved upward with his smile. “Well, I suppose that is technically correct. However, you’ve left key details out concerning the reaction to the first wave’s disappearance,” Port replied, and Weiss’ smile fell a bit. “Mister Boudica, I saw your hand first, so maybe you can tell us what happened as a result of the Kingdoms’ lack of preparation?”

                Nero lowered his hand, along with several other students eager to earn participation credit. “The humans sent indentured Faunus servants to continue the expansion for the next wave,” Nero answered bluntly, and Verris nodded drowsily nearby. “The Kingdoms figured that they could cut cost on supplies and cut down the Faunus population in the same move by sending them to face these new Grimm, given that this was before the White Fang pressured governments into establishing rights for Faunus.”

                “That’s exactly right, Mister Boudica, although I expected nothing less,” Port replied happily. “Yes, one of the misfortunes of the political landscape at the time allowed for what was known as the ‘Pioneer’s Purge’ to take place, bolstering divisive rhetoric and racist policies across the globe for the purposes of expansion. It’s often been theorized that, if armored Grimm had never been discovered, the Purge never would have taken place. It’s estimated that hundreds of thousands of Faunus were lost as a result. Tragic, really.”

                “I’ll bet that damaged the workforce,” Cardin muttered from further back in the room, and Port’s gaze instantly locked onto him.

                “Watch your step, Mister Winchester,” he warned him. “I do not tolerate racist sentiment in my classroom, ever. Now, where was I?”

                “Have you ever faced down an armored Grimm other than a Boarbatusk?” Yang asked casually, and Marcus appeared to be holding back a laugh as the class caught onto what Yang was doing.

                Port’s eyes twinkled under his eyebrows and his chest swelled with pride. “Have I fought armored Grimm other than those spinning hogs? Why, of course I have, Miss Xiao-Long!” Port boasted, his voice booming through the room. “Why, I remember one hunt from twenty years ago in Mistral. I was on my own, tracking a colony of Creepers through the jungles of Mistral. I was low on Dust and ammunition, but that’s exactly why my blunderbuss comes with axe blades on the side! The weather was damp…”

                Eliza tuned out as she refocused her attention on her notebook, knowing full well that Port wouldn’t finish his story before the bell rang at the end of class. She’d already filled up two pages worth of paper with inane scribbling, interrupted here and there by elaborate drawings of dragons. People used to believe they roamed the planet in hordes, but no one had ever produced any evidence. That’s what fascinated Eliza about them, the mythology of it all. It’d be so amazing to see one, if they ever had existed.

                The ringing of the class bell stopped Port in the middle of his story, and he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell you all how it ended next week! For now, keep studying. We’ll be discussing Grimm decomposition starting on Tuesday, so be ready! Mister Emedio, if you could wait for just a moment, I’d like to speak with you.”

                As everyone started filing out of the lecture hall, Port gave Eliza an unexpected thumbs-up. “Excellent work on that essay, Miss Aurum,” he congratulated her. “You submitted a bit too close to the deadline, but I’m impressed nonetheless.”

                Eliza simply smiled and nodded as she walked out, seriously confused. _Wait, I never submitted anything. I never even got past the first paragraph…whatever, I’ll take the grade._

“Eliza!” Ruby’s voice called out from somewhere below eye level. “Hey, you busy after class?”

                                Eliza looked down to see the silver-eyed girl beaming up at her, and Eliza smiled back. Ruby already gave off an aura of adorableness, but the fact that she was practically fun-sized compared to Eliza just emphasized the matter.

                “Well, I’ve got to meet up with Oobleck to discuss moving a test around,” Eliza answered, running through her schedule. “But I should be free around two-thirty or so. Did you have something in mind?”

                Ruby nodded enthusiastically. “Yep yep! Yang says she found this awesome new burger place in town, and I know how much you enjoy…”

                “Do they have it?” Eliza interrupted her. “They make triple bacon cheeseburgers, Atlas-style?”

                                “Got it in one, Lizzy,” Yang piped up from behind her, trying her best to casually drape an arm over Eliza’s shoulders despite the height difference. “Plus, I know the guy who owns the place, so I can get us all a discount. You in?”

                “I think I’m gonna move my meeting with Oobleck up, actually,” Eliza answered excitedly. “Mama needs her fix ASAP!”

                Yang fired off finger guns at Eliza as they parted ways. “We’ll MEAT you there, Lizzy!” she said, dropping the pun faster than anyone could hope to prevent it. “I’ll send the address to your scroll. Later!”

                “See you then,” Eliza replied as she all but sprinted to Oobleck’s office, her thoughts occupied with the prospect of heart-stopping, calorie-loaded, unhealthy burgers and fries.

 

                “Mister Emedio, this is the third time you’ve fallen asleep in my class this week,” Port informed Verris as he cleaned the stack of papers from his desk. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t intrude on matters such as this, but you are among my best students, and this is very unlike you.”

                “I apologize, Professor,” Verris replied flatly, too tired to put much effort into the words. “I haven’t been getting much sleep for the past few nights. It won’t happen again.”

                Port gave Verris a hard look, the same one every other adult gave when they were trying to get a kid to admit to something. “Are you sure it’s just a matter of poor sleep habits?” Port inquired. “Or is there something else causing this?”

                Verris hesitated, tiredness drifting away for the moment as his brain struggled to formulate a believable excuse. _All-nighters? No, that’s not going to work. Caffeine intake? No, he knows I don’t drink caffeine, that’s Eliza’s schtick._

“I’ve just been getting to bed way too late, sir,” Verris lied. “I’m sorry for being so irresponsible. I promise I’m not trying to flake out on your course.”

                “Mister Emedio, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that your interest in the creatures of Grimm is not faked,” Port assured him. “You’re more informed on the subject of Grimm studies than most third years I teach in this course. Well, you and Mister Boudica, I suppose. Still, try to be a little more careful in how you plan for classes, alright?”

                Verris nodded. “Yes, Professor Port, I will,” he answered. “Thank you for your concern.”

                                “Well, be on your way, then!” the professor told him, patting him on the back as he left. “Oh, and do try to be less obvious the next time you ghostwrite an essay for someone. I’ll let it slide this time, but you know our policy on student integrity.”

                Verris’ face flushed in embarrassment, and he nodded again as he left the room. He’d been so engrossed in the assignment that he had completely forgotten to edit down his own writing style in Eliza’s essay. At least Port was giving him a free pass this time around…

                Marcus was waiting for Verris outside the room, arms crossed over his chest as he flashed Verris a smile. “You do love getting in trouble, don’t ya?” he joked, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “To be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eliza so worried about having a late essay before, so I get it.”

                “She was trying really hard, man,” Verris told him. “But she was just pushing too far, and trying to write while dead tired is a bad idea.”

                “Hah! You should talk, you look how I feel in the mornings right now,” Marcus pointed out. “How long were you up writing that essay? A couple of hours?”

                _The essay hardly took any time at all,_ Verris thought to himself, but he kept that part quiet. “I honestly lost track of time. It was too late to go to sleep when I finished, so I just stayed up.”

                “Well, make sure you actually sleep from now on. You’ve got a big match to prepare for on Monday, remember?” Marcus reminded him, waving at Ren and Nora as they passed in the other direction.

                Verris shook himself awake. “Who told you I was fighting Pyrrha on Monday?” he demanded, feeling more self-conscious than usual.

                Marcus’ mouth widened in satisfied surprise, and Verris scowled. “So it IS her you chose to fight!” Marcus stated eagerly. “Man, Yang owes me another twenty lien. I’m gonna have her life savings by the end of the year…”

                “You two are impossible,” Verris sighed. “Yes, I have a match against the Invincible Girl on Monday in combat training. I’ll handle it.”

                “Need someone to help you practice? I mean, I’ve squared off with her before, I can give you some tips,” Marcus offered, and Verris raised an eyebrow.

                “You mean you’ve got your ass handed to you by her,” Verris corrected him with a smile. “Sorry, that was rude. I appreciate the offer, but I can handle this.”

                “Suit yourself, man,” Marcus said, popping his neck to one side. “The offer still stands.”

                                Verris didn’t hear him. He was walking through one of his daylight dreams again, and heard Shattered Earth being dragged along the ground somewhere behind him. Aethyr was in the school again.

                No, she wasn’t. This was just a dream. He was hallucinating again. He needed to get more sleep.

                                Sleep meant nightmares.

                No sleep. No sleep. As little sleep as possible.

                                Breathe in, breathe out. Keep breathing, and you’ll be fine.

                _No, I won’t. I need to win._

 

                Eliza leaned back in her seat and patted her stomach, having downed four triple bacon burgers in less than thirty minutes while Yang simply stared at the empty plate in amazement. Yang was right; this place had the best food around. Finding burgers made Atlas-style was not easy to do outside of the kingdom, but the cooks here nailed it.

                Yang was still working on her strawberry milkshake, and Ruby was on her second oversized cookie. “That was perfect,” Eliza breathed contentedly. “I didn’t realize how much I missed home until now.”

                “Well, you certainly gave the cooks a run for their money,” Yang joked, popping the cherry from her shake into her mouth. “I don’t think they’ve ever seen anyone order four of those things at once. They’re huge!”

                “I’ll burn it off later,” Eliza said with a dismissive wave. “Oh, right. It’s leg day. Ugh.”

                                “I mean, you’re allowed to take a day off every once in a while, aren’t you?” Ruby asked, and the other two met her with looks of horror.

                “Skip the gym, are you kidding?” Eliza gasped. “I think the collective lack of health in my food would catch up and kill me on the spot.”

                “Yeah, and I need her to start winning against Nora!” Yang blurted out. “I gotta earn my allowance back…”

                “Wait, you gambled the allowance dad sent?” Ruby asked, her innocent eyes horrified at this new sin surfacing in her absolute sinnamon roll of a sister.

                “Thanks for the support, Yang,” Eliza laughed, fist bumping her. “So how did you find this place? It’s kind of off the radar.”

                Yang pulled the cherry stem out of her mouth, tied in a knot before answering. “Hey, what can I say? I know how to get the info I need, when I need it,” she bragged. “A friend of a friend told me about this place, and I figured you’d enjoy it.”

                “Thanks, guys,” Eliza said, smiling widely. “It’s nice to have a little piece of home close by. Let’s just hope they never start selling pancakes, or Nora will eat them out of house and home.”

                Ruby washed the last cookie down with a small milk bottle before letting out a loud belch. Yang immediately high-fived her sister, while Eliza slid a bit lower in her seat on impulse. Bad manners were not tolerated in her house, and this was new territory.

                “Well, now that you know where it is, you can bring the rest of your team here sometime!” Ruby suggested eagerly. “It sure beats sharing a lunchroom with Cardin and those guys.”

                “Although they have been running with their tails between their legs since the smackdown you and Nero delivered yesterday,” Yang pointed out, winking at Eliza. “I don’t think Beacon has felt so relaxed in a while.”

                “I hate to say it, but it felt really good,” Eliza admitted. “You should have seen the look on Russell’s face when I caught him in one hand. I thought he was going to pee his pants!”

                “I would have given serious money to see that,” Yang replied, cleaning the last bit of ice cream out of the bottom of her glass. “Then again, I’m already low on cash…”

                “I still can’t believe you gambled that away…”

                                “Ruby, I will buy you three more of those jumbo cookies if you promise you won’t tell dad,” Yang pleaded. “Come on, I don’t need him to know about this.”

                Ruby pouted indignantly, although Eliza thought it just drove home the point that Ruby couldn’t look scary no matter what. “Deal,” she grudgingly accepted, and Yang smirked as she signaled the order to the elderly cook.

                The three of them left the burger stop with a carry-out bag of cookies and full stomachs, ambling towards the city docks as the sun began to set over the harbor. In spite of how busy the city was, the workers did an excellent job of keeping it clean. All that was left was the reek of fish to deal with at the docks.

                Yang plopped down at the end of the pier, dangling her feet over the water lazily as Eliza and Ruby joined her. Ruby immediately tore into the bag of cookies, despite Yang’s warnings that she was going to make herself sick, while Eliza just smiled at the both of them. It was nice they had ended up on the same team together…

                “Were you planning to be teamed up together?” Eliza asked them. “I mean, I know you got partnered with Weiss and Blake, but it seems really lucky that you ended up on the same team.”

                Ruby nodded enthusiastically, but Yang simply shrugged. “Truth be told, I wanted Ruby to expand her circle of friends, but it’s nice being teamed with my little sister,” she answered honestly, putting Ruby in a loose headlock as her sister desperately tried to save her cookie from falling into the water. “You got any siblings, Lizzy?”

                Eliza’s smile faltered as she nodded. “Yeah, a twin sister. Her name’s Meera,” she said flatly.

                                “Ooh, you’re a twin?!” Ruby mumbled past a mouthful of cookie crumbs. “That’s so cool! Can you read each other’s minds? What’s it like?”

                Eliza laughed loudly, so hard that tears came to her eyes. “Actually, it’s the complete opposite,” she corrected. “Meera and I may look alike, but…we really don’t get along. She even dyed her hair black to stop getting compared to me.”

                “Oh, uh…sorry,” Ruby apologized. “Is she training to be a huntress too?”

                                Eliza shook her head. “Meera prefers to let her words do the work for her, not action,” Eliza said, swiping a hand through the water slowly. “She studies, I train. She maneuvers and plays politics, I fight and compete. Honestly, it’s hard to believe we’re related.”

                Yang released Ruby, stretching out before laying back on the pier. “I mean, nothing says you have to be the same,” she suggested. “I mean, Ruby and I aren’t exactly people you’d pin down as siblings either.”

                “We did have different moms, Yang,” Ruby reminded her.

                                “You know what I mean,” Yang said. “I was trying to make a point. I think. Eh, it’s gone now.”

                The three of them passed the rest of the sunset watching from the pier, the water lapping softly at the supports below them. Eliza kept dipping her hand into the water, fascinated at what it was like to be so close to an ocean not half-frozen over throughout the year.

                She hadn’t thought about Meera in a while, not since she’d left for Vale. How was she doing in the Atlas academy? Was she learning how to stop being so petty in every insult? Was she worried about failing like she was?

                Those were worries for another day. For now, Eliza closed her eyes and relaxed, enjoying a quiet afternoon among friends.


	10. Episode Nine: Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verris' anxiety and frustrations come to a head, and the truth comes forth, but so does regret. Nero decides to take matters into his own hands.
> 
> (I swear Verris isn't going to be the only guy getting arcs here, trust me).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Depictions of abuse, Strong Language, PTSD, H E A V Y Angst.

Verris sat upright in his bed, refusing to sleep. The clock read 5:36 AM. He didn’t have any classes to worry about today, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Dreams would not take him again. He wouldn’t give Aethyr, in any form whatsoever, the satisfaction of his fear. Not even that horrid semblance of hers would reach him again.

                Despite his protests, his eyes continued to flutter shut for brief moments before he forced himself awake again. Sometimes it was with cold water, other times by biting into his lip with his sharpened canines. All methods were losing effectiveness.

                _Just stay awake until Monday_ , he told himself, repeating it like a mantra. _Stay awake, fight, and win. This will all be over._

_Right?_

He looked at the clock again, feeling like an hour had passed since he last looked. It read 5:37 AM. He took a deep breath and stifled the scream bubbling up from his lungs, and forced himself from the bed, still wearing his armored white duster and jeans. The SDC body armor underneath was like a heavy safety blanket, assuring him that he was ready to fight at any moment. He just needed a fight to distract him. Yes, that was it, he needed to practice, but where? Not the courtyard, too visible. No gym, no access at the moment. Rooftop is ideal, yes. Practice on the roof.

                Verris headed for the door, doing his best to keep silent. As his hand grasped the doorknob, a quiet voice caught his attention.

                “Verris?” Eliza asked drowsily from behind her curtain. “What are you doing up so early?”

                                “Couldn’t sleep,” He answered truthfully. “Getting an early start on the day. Go back to sleep.”

                There was a brief pause, and then Verris heard Eliza shifting back into place under her covers and mumbling her way back to sleep. He closed the dorm room door slowly behind him, making sure to avoid the rusty squeal it usually made before heading for the nearest rooftop elevator. There was no way he could gain access to Vosgedge at this hour. The armory would still be locked. He’d have to settle for practicing his unarmed combat.

                _Nice of them to leave us unhindered roof access though._

The elevator hissed silently up to the top floor as Verris glared blankly at the wall in front of him. He kept imagining her face, Aethyr’s face, glaring back at him from the polished steel, her tongue dancing on words she was ready to launch at him like arrows.

                _This ends for good once I win_ , Verris assured himself for what had to be the thirtieth time. _You don’t control me._

_I chose to be a Huntsman._

_…Yeah, right._

The doors slid open and Verris stepped out onto the quiet rooftop of the dorm wing. It was more than wide enough a space to practice safely in, and no one else was in sight. He could be alone up here for as long as he needed.

                Verris shrugged off his duster coat and stretched momentarily before closing his eyes and dropping into a fighting stance. He tapped into his semblance, feeling the familiar, comforting coolness of steel as it coated his arms for a moment, disappearing just as quickly. What he needed this time was to outsmart Pyrrha, not to beat her down with brute force the way he did all his other opponents. No, she was calculating, quick to respond and analytical. He’d seen that in his previous fights with her, and he’d seen it in her fight against Marcus.

                _Be quick_ , Verris thought, sliding his back foot to widen his stance as he tensed to throw a punch. _Be quicker, and more fluid in your motions. Begin._

Verris’ eyes snapped open, and he launched a quick palm strike with his left hand, using the momentum to transition into a leg sweep before rising back to his full height and backflipping into an overhead kick. He landed with his feet out of position, and snarled.

                _Again. Do it right this time._

He fell back into his original posture, launching into palm strike, leg sweep, backflip, overhead kick, stick the landing. No errors this time.

                _Why are you stopping? She won’t. Never stop moving. Keep up the attack and leave no room for her to counter._

Palm strike, leg sweep, backflip, overhead kick, but now into a reverse elbow strike. Follow it up with a backhand to the chin. Spin out of the way, weave around counterattacks. The fight is not safe for those who only force an advantage.

                _Come on, DO IT RIGHT!_

                                PALM STRIKE, LEG SWEEP, BACKFLIP, OVERHEAD KICK, ELBOW STRIKE, BACKHAND, EVADE, FLIP, DUCK LOW, AIM FOR THE SOLAR PLEXUS, HEEL SPIN, LEFT KI…

                Verris dropped to the ground in the middle of the spin as a sharp, stabbing pain lanced up from his right ankle, and he bit down into his lip to keep from crying out. He’d put too much momentum into the movement and wasn’t light enough on his feet.

                He tore his shoe off and inspected his ankle. Yep, he had twisted it badly. The injury was already beginning to swell visibly, and Verris slammed an iron fist into the roof, cracking the concrete. _No, no, no, NOT NOW! I HAVE TO WIN THIS!_

He forced himself back to his feet, ignoring the stinging pain radiating from his ankle as he shifted his fighting stance to his prosthetic leg instead.

                _Adapt. You can still do this._

Palm strike. Leg sweep. Backflip into overhead kick. Elbow strike. Reverse backhand. Evade, avoid putting weight on that leg…

                The second Verris landed from his next maneuver, the pain in his ankle returned twofold, and he crumpled to the ground again, swearing up a storm as he cradled the injury in both hands. There was no way he could fight like this, especially not against her.

                _I’m never going to win, am I?_

                                Verris remained where he was, watching the sun begin to crest over the mountains as he put his duster coat back on. The wind was picking up again.

                If nothing else, he had a nice view of the sunrise. He could enjoy it in isolation…

                                There was a sound of a door squeaking behind him, and Verris turned around to see none other than Pyrrha Nikos standing in the doorway, just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

                “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know anyone was up here.”

                                “I was just leaving,” Verris grumbled, ignoring her as he headed for the elevator door. “Enjoy the view.”

                But before his hand could reach the call button, Pyrrha had stepped into his path. Verris moved to the side to get around her, but she persisted. His breathing grew shallower, and his hands clenched into fists.

                “Move aside, Nikos,” he demanded in a low voice. “I don’t want to ask again.”

                                “No,” Pyrrha refused angrily, shoving him back with a single palm against his chest. “You’re going to talk to me now. You spend all of Sanctum trying to one-up me, hold a grudge I don’t even understand, demand I leave you alone, and now you’re challenging me for round five? What is going on, Verris? What did I ever do to you?”

                Verris’ nostrils flared, and he fought to keep the steel away from his hands. He knew what she could do to him if he tried to attack, even if he somehow let himself sink that low. He just needed her to move.

                “Verris, why do you hate me so deeply?” she demanded to know, with a conviction in her eyes that Verris had never seen before. “Will you just tell me for once?”

                Finally, he snapped. She asked…

                                “You said in that message to me that you should have done something at Sanctum,” Verris began, forcing out words as bitterly as he could. “What is it you think you should’ve helped with, hm? What did you think was going on?”

                Pyrrha’s anger seemed to waver for a moment, and her eyes went a bit softer. “I saw the bruises on your face after our fight,” she said. “I’d heard how people talked about you, and I was afraid people were…”

                “Were what, bullying me?” Verris finished, laughing nastily. “Hah! Nothing they could have said would have done anything worse than what I was already dealing with. You want to know where I got those bruises, Pyrrha? Do you actually want to know, or do you just want to seem caring?”

                “I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t trying to help,” Pyrrha shot back, her anger having returned. “But I’m seriously beginning to question if it’s worth it.”

                “I got those bruises…the same way I got this leg,” Verris said, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to quell his anger. “I got them all from my mother, the praised and oh-so-excellent combat instructor at Sanctum academy. You remember her, right? You were her top student, after all.”

                Pyrrha’s eyes went from Verris to the steel prosthetic leg attached to his left knee, and her hands went to her mouth in horror. Verris wished he could enjoy the expression, seeing her realize just how much he’d gone through without anyone knowing, but he just felt nasty.

                “But…how did…someone must have known,” Pyrrha stammered out, and the vindication Verris had been feeling dwindled to nearly nothing. “I…I looked forward to her class and she…”

                “The people who knew didn’t care because of what I am,” Verris explained, pointing to his ears. “And she got really good at hiding it from everyone else. But you didn’t know what she was really like. No, I had to pay for it every time I came home and you had outranked me in her class.”

                Pyrrha looked like she was hyperventilating, and her hands were twitching nervously at her sides. “But I didn’t know…”

                “Of course you didn’t! You were only too eager to please your teachers, after all!” Verris shouted. “You want to know what happened when I got this leg? I came home from my first day at Sanctum, feeling like a million lien, because I’d aced every preliminary test. All Aethyr could see was that you’d done better by a single point, and she’d hit the bottle hard that night. She pulled out her flail, and I woke up in a hospital missing a leg. Because you had done better than me.”

                _Stop it, Verris, this isn’t her fault!_ a small part of him cried out as he saw her eyes glistening with tears.

                “So let me answer your question,” Verris continued, no longer able to look her in the eye. “I hate you because Aethyr told me too. I hate you because if I didn’t do as I was told, I wasn’t safe. I hate you, Pyrrha, even though I know I shouldn’t, because if I don’t, then the only person left to blame is myself, okay!”

                Verris’ breaths were shaky as his anger left him entirely, and he saw Pyrrha’s fists clenched tightly as she regained her composure. Her eyes were red, and Verris couldn’t tell if she was ready to punch him or run. The weight of everything he’d just said to her crashed down on him like a pile of bricks, and he hung his head in shame.

                “I’m sorry,” he whispered, limping past Pyrrha to the elevator. “You didn’t deserve that.”

                                “I should have helped…”

                “You couldn’t have known,” Verris corrected her, stepping into the lift. “Please, just forget what I said. I’m sorry, Pyrrha.”

                The doors closed between them, and Verris slumped to the floor against the wall, his head in his hands as he slammed an iron fist into the wall next to him. The metal dented slightly around the blow, but his heart wasn’t in it. None of it felt right anymore, not after what he’d just done.

                _I don’t belong here_ , Verris thought, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to calm his breathing. _Ozpin was wrong about me._

                The school’s nurse carefully finished wrapping Verris’ ankle with a flourish, and he examined the splint closely. He hadn’t broken anything, but he would still need time to heal. Time was not something he had much of.

                “Well, that should keep you from further damaging your leg, but you’ll have to keep your weight off of it for some time,” the nurse told him. “If you want, I can prescribe you some painkillers for a few days, although you’ll have to come here for each dose.”

                “Painkillers would be nice,” Verris replied, nodding tiredly. “How long until I can use the ankle again? A few days?”

                “Days? Try a week or two, Mr. Emedio,” the nurse corrected him. “I’ve already contacted your instructors to notify them about your condition, so you can rest easy…”

                “What?! No, I need to be ready for Monday,” Verris exclaimed in shock, his eyes wide. “I have a match scheduled to make up for points and…”

                “And Professor Goodwitch has already agreed to move your match back until your ankle is healed with no damage to your grade,” the nurse interrupted, her eyebrows furrowed. “You are not going to injure yourself further, am I clear?”

                Verris opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it, resigning himself to his situation. “I understand, ma’am,” he said, reaching for the crutch he had been provided. “Thanks for your help.”

                She simply nodded as he limped out of the medical wing, the crutch doing little to slow him down. After all, this wasn’t the first time he had to adapt to an injury like this.

                _I can’t take another week of this_ , he thought to himself, hobbling along the sides of the hallway to avoid the sparse traffic. _I’m going to go insane at this rate._

Suddenly, there was a strong grip on Verris’ shoulder, and he turned around to see Nero giving him a hard look. Before Verris could open his mouth, Nero was all but dragging him towards the armory. “We need to talk, now,” he said.

                As the door closed behind them, Verris took a seat on one of the benches while Nero checked each changing stall carefully. After confirming that they were alone, Nero leaned against the lockers opposite Verris, arms crossed as he glared expectantly.

                “What happened to your leg?” he asked, gesturing to the crutch. “You didn’t have that yesterday.”

                Verris looked away from his teammate as he answered. “Twisted my ankle, that’s all.”

                                “How’d that happen?”

                “I was practicing my form.”

                                “Must be a big event if you’re practicing that hard for it,” Nero remarked, the edge in his voice making it clear he knew more than he was saying. “Who’d you challenge?”

                “Nero, I’ll be fine,” Verris lied, searching for a way out of the encounter. “It’s not a problem.”

                                “Don’t you give me that shit!” Nero snapped, his ears lowering in anger as he stepped closer to Verris. “Eliza may buy your self-sufficient act, but don’t you dare lie to me about this. We’re partners on this team, in case you forgot Ozpin’s rule.”

                Verris winced; he hadn’t forgotten at all, but Nero was right. Abrasive and blunt as he ever was, Nero never outright lied to anyone on the team.

                “I challenged Pyrrha…” Verris began, even though Nero was already nodding knowingly.

                                “Yeah, I heard from Marcus,” he cut Verris off. “I know there’s something bad between you two, but Eliza won’t say a word about it, and Marcus doesn’t want to ‘cause a scene’ as he put it. So you are going to tell me, right here and now, what is going on!”

                Verris took a moment to breathe. Nero wasn’t going to let him out of this one, he knew that. Lying to him would only make things worse, and the two of them had just started to improve their teamwork recently. He braced himself, and for the second time that day, he spilled every last detail; his father, the pre-terrorist White Fang, Aethyr’s abuse, his leg, Pyrrha, the nightmares, he dumped all of it at once, without anger or fear. The longer he held onto this, the worse it would become. Not once did Nero interrupt or challenge him, only nodding every so often to indicate that he was still listening. By the time Verris finished, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

                “You know, you’re starting to make a lot more sense now,” Nero commented calmly. “You’ve had it pretty rough, rougher than most.”

                Nero took a seat next to his partner, and took a deep breath. “But the way you’re going about this is not going to help you. Keeping everything a secret, holding onto an old grudge, refusing to bloody sleep? Verris, you can trust us, believe it or not.”

                “I’m supposed to be a leader, Nero. I shouldn’t be letting my baggage hold us back.”

                “So what, you have to take on everything alone?” Nero asked incredulously. “You’re part of the team, too, leader or not, and that means we’re all here for each other. All of us.”

                He sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not here to tell you I know what’s best for you. Maybe winning a match against her will help you, maybe it won’t,” he admitted. “But you do need to stop treating yourself this way, especially seeing as you’ve gone and hurt yourself already. You need to rest, Verris, and you need to stop trying to do everything on your own, got it?”

                Verris nodded slowly, and a small smile cracked his lips. “Okay,” he agreed quietly, reaching for his crutch. “I’ll try. I’m sorry for keeping this hidden from all of you.”

                “Don’t apologize for that. Just promise me you won’t hesitate to reach out to from now on, okay?” Nero said, helping Verris to his feet. “Trust me, I’m not good at this whole ‘opening up’ business either, but it’s for the best.”

                Again Verris nodded, and the two left the armory. A buzzing noise came from Nero’s pocket, and he smiled as he checked the device. “We should get back to the dorm ASAP. Marcus needs a free hand.”

                Verris raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Nero only smiled like that when he was part of a scheme of some sort. “What’s going on?” he asked casually, keeping pace with Nero despite his injury. “You three have been plotting something, haven’t you?”

                “No, just Marc and I,” Nero corrected him, looking over his shoulder warily. “Eliza doesn’t need to know yet, but it’ll be fun. It might help get your mind off of things.”

                “We’re not going through with the plan to fling a beehive into Team Cardinal’s window, are we?” Verris asked, remembering Nero’s most recent get-even idea with a smile. “Where would we even get that many bees?”

                Nero quickly shushed him. “Hey, keep your voice down, I’m still working on that one!” he urged his partner. “No, today is the start of Operation…erm…one second.”

                Nero scrolled through his messages as they neared their room in the hall before nodding thoughtfully. “Operation Matchmaker…fuck me, Marc, that’s a terrible name.”

                “Are we seriously going to…”

                                “Yep.”

                “On a date with…”

                                “Yep!”

                “And their team is in on it?”

                                “YEP!”

                “Hoo boy,” Verris whistled as he caught on to what Nero and Marc were doing. “This is either going to go very well, or very poorly.”

                “Does that mean you’re not in on this?” Nero asked, knocking on the door three times, and then twice more. “It could be fun.”

                Marcus opened the door and ushered them both in, and Verris shrugged. “Oh, what the hell, I’m in.”

                “That’s more like it,” Nero said with a smile.

                                The three of them gathered in the kitchen, following along with Marcus as he explained each step of the plan to them and their roles. For a moment, Verris forgot all about the earlier events of the day, engrossed in something he could actually enjoy for once. They plotted away into the night, until the sun finally set and Nero pointed very clearly to Verris’ bed.

                “We’ve got work to do tomorrow,” he reminded him. “Get some sleep, and let me know if the nightmares come back, ‘kay?”

                Verris nodded, and crawled hesitantly into his bed after disconnecting his prosthetic leg. He was terrified to shut his eyes, but Nero was right. He needed to sleep, even if he saw Aethyr again.

                But he didn’t. For the first time in a week, Verris didn’t dream at all.


	11. Episode 10: Vale After Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fast Forward from the last chapter: Blake Belladonna has gone missing from Beacon after infighting on Team RWBY, and Nero thinks he knows why. It's time for the Vacuoan Dream Team to fall back on old habits, and older skills...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Strong Language

Nero paced back and forth across the school courtyard, hands fidgeting behind his back as he tried to process what exactly about the current situation was making him so uneasy. Rumors always spread quickly through Beacon, but this one held his attention and refused to let go.

                Blake Belladonna had apparently gone missing from Team RWBY after a shouting match with Weiss, and was nowhere to be found. It had happened earlier in the day, around noon, and any other details were sketchy at best.

                _I know that name_ , Nero repeated to himself, trying to chip away at the burning questions in his head. _What’s the link? How does Weiss tie into all of this? Who is Blake?_

                Meanwhile, Marcus sat calmly on the edge of the courtyard fountain, legs crossed in a meditative pose as he watched Nero fume. He was rolling a piece of gravel around in his hands, a focusing technique he’d picked up many years ago to keep him rooted in the present. Nero never got this worked up over anything unless it had to do with one of three issues, and when he did, Marcus caught onto the same stress all too quickly if he wasn’t careful.

                “You said that Blake’s family name sounded very familiar to you at one point,” Marcus offered, as Nero continued his pacing. “Familiar in a bad way. Can you remember why?”

                Nero shook his head in frustration. “That’s part of the problem, Marc. I can’t figure out what bothers me so much about all this unless I figure out where I’ve heard that name before,” he explained. “It should be obvious, and I know I’m going to be kicking myself for weeks once I figure it out.”

                Marcus nodded thoughtfully, still rolling the piece of gravel in his hands. He had to admit, something had always seemed off about Blake, even if she was nice enough. Living in Vacuo as the two of them had made it easy to spot when someone was keeping secrets, and Blake reeked of a big one.

                “It’s a Schnee who pissed her off, but that’s not hard to believe,” Nero rambled, as if he was going through a list of related factors. “Anyone would be annoyed by that spoiled heiress, especially if you have to put up with her every day.”

                Marcus winced slightly. “I understand that you don’t like the Schnee family, but I’m telling you, Weiss doesn’t seem as bad as the rest of them,” he said, measuring his words carefully. “You and I both know that bloodlines aren’t everything.”

                Suddenly, Nero’s ears stood straight up, and he snapped his fingers. “Marc, that’s it!” he exclaimed, finally realizing what the missing piece was. “Belladonna isn’t just a familiar name, it’s the name of the guy who used to lead the White Fang! That’s why I know it! Blake is one of them!”

                Marcus fell backwards off his seat, splashing into the fountain as Nero looked on with mild amusement (although more of a ‘why are we like this’ face, if we’re being honest). After pulling himself out of the fountain (and spitting a stray goldfish back into the water), Marcus put both his hands on Nero’s shoulders.

                “Wait, are you absolutely sure about this?” he asked, pausing as he realized that he was getting water all over his friend’s clothes before lowering his hands back to his sides. “She’d have to be a Faunus in order to…wait, seriously?”

                Nero nodded, suppressing his ‘isn’t it obvious’ look as best as he could. “Trust me, she’s definitely a Faunus,” he told Marcus. “Pay attention to the bow she wears the next time you see her. And I’m certain of this. Her family WAS the White Fang.”

                Marcus’ brow furrowed as he tried to wring the water out of his clothes. “How do we tell Ozpin? The first thing he’ll ask will be how you know they were in the White Fang.”

                “Shit,” Nero swore as he resumed pacing. “That option’s a no-go…fuck it, we’re tracking her down.”

                “Dust, Nero, slow down,” Marcus urged his friend. “We don’t even know if she is personally part of the White Fang…”

                “She definitely was. Trust me.”

                                “Okay, so if she still is, wouldn’t it be smart to stay the hell away from her?”

                Nero shook his head insistently. “Her family was powerful in the White Fang. She was no different,” Nero stated plainly. “If she’s in the city, I’ll bet anything she’s not the only one hiding under our noses. They don’t send scouts on their own, that’s not how they work.”

                Marcus’s lips tightened into a thin line, and he shrugged. “You’ve got more experience with this than me,” he admitted. “I believe you. But are you absolutely certain that she’s still part of them?”

                Nero hesitated, and nodded. “Every instinct I have is screaming that she’s one of them. Unless Team RWBY already knows, they’re in danger.”

                “And we can’t rat her out without getting questioned about the Fang ourselves,” Marcus continued for him. “Man, I don’t like this…but we’re grabbing our gear and doing this. Should we tell Eliza and Verris?”

                “Dust, no,” Nero replied, heading for the armory door around the other side of the castle. “We’d be dealing with the same problem as if we told Ozpin, and even if Verris wasn’t injured, telling him about my ties is not the smartest thing to do right now.”

                “Fair enough.”

                                The two of them slipped into the armory without a sound. It was getting late, and they had to gear up fast if they wanted to avoid being caught by the janitors. Fortunately, no one else was in sight, and they managed to grab their weapons without being detected. Once Nero had finished refilling his daggers with Dust, he nodded to Marcus, and they crept back towards the door.

                Suddenly, there was a loud squeaking noise, like a door hinge in need of being replaced. Without wasting a moment, Nero and Marcus split off in opposite directions, searching for a place to hide as a single set of footsteps drew nearer. Nero slowed his breathing, wedging himself between the end of a row of lockers and the wall as he listened. His ears twitched at every new sound, but he didn’t hear the telltale jingling of keys the janitors kept with them.

                “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” a familiar voice whispered from somewhere else in the armory. “Just give me a sec, I need to drop off my gear.”

                _Yang?_ Nero thought, recognizing the voice as the footsteps grew louder. He risked a quick peek around the corner, and sure enough, there she was. Nero ducked back behind the lockers quickly and held his breath, but he heard no indication that Yang knew he was there.

                He heard the sound of a locker being opened and something being dumped inside haphazardly, followed by Yang taking a seat on one of the benches. She sounded uncharacteristically upset about something.

                “Weiss, you idiot,” she grumbled to herself. “This is all your fault.”

                                Nero raised an eyebrow; he’d never heard anything to suggest that Yang had issues with the heiress, but it wasn’t surprising.

                “It’s okay,” Yang said to herself, apparently in some sort of self-assurance. “You’ll find her eventually and sort this out. Don’t sweat it…”

                _Oh, right_ , Nero remembered. _Blake’s partner. That sucks._

It felt like hours passed before Yang finally left the armory, and he let out a relieved sigh before taking off towards the exit. Marcus was already waiting for him with the door held open, and they slipped out into the night with no one the wiser.

                It wasn’t difficult to catch an airtram down to the city proper, and no one ever questioned students staying out after dark, so it seemed that the worst part was over to Nero. No one gave them or their weapons a second look, so long as they remained holstered.

                “Where do we start looking?” Marcus whispered so only Nero could hear. “Beacon City is a massive place.”

                “South City, and then the docks,” Nero replied quickly, having already mapped out their route in his head. “I’ll tell you more when we land.”

                Nero realized that another passenger was giving him a distinct side-eye, their glare focused on the top of his head before migrating down towards the sheathed daggers at his hips. The passenger had a badge on their chest; Vale Law Enforcement. As they got up from their seat, Nero started to panic. He knew where this was going.

                “Vale Kingdom Police,” the officer said, flashing a separate badge and ID at Nero without any hesitation. “I’m going to need to see a license for your weapons.”

                Nero’s heart leapt into his throat; he always kept his papers in the same pocket…right next to the holster for Poena. If he reached for them, the cop was likely to get awfully antsy.

                “Sir, my papers are in my left pocket,” Nero told him, enunciating each word as clearly as he could. “That’s a bit too close to one of these weapons. How do you want to do this?”

                “Excuse me?” the officer bristled, reaching for the strap on his gun. “Is that a threat you just made?”

                Nero slowly moved his hands above his head and kept them there in response while Marcus did his best to keep his temper under control. The air was already getting heavier around him, Nero could feel it.

                “No, officer, that’s not what I meant,” Nero explained hurriedly, sweat beading on his brow. Vale Police had specially issued firearms that could pierce straight through Aura if needed, something they kept well-regulated within the kingdom. All it would take would be a single shot, and that’d be it. “I don’t want to reach anywhere near my weapons, but I’d be happy to show you my license. How can I do that without giving you reason for concern?”

                The officer’s scowl intensified as he looked towards the daggers, and Nero could see the wheels turning in his head. If this guy wasn’t a cop, Nero would’ve already planted his face into the floor for this. There was a reason the officer hadn’t asked to see Marc’s papers as well, despite his being very visibly armed…

                “You,” the cop snapped at Marcus. “Unfasten his holsters and hand them over.”

                Again, Nero found himself praying that Marcus’ legendary self-restraint wouldn’t fail him now, as his teammate slowly reached over and undid the straps on both holsters. Once the officer had both weapons in hand, he nodded to Nero. “Papers, kid.”

                Nero slowly lowered his left hand into his pocket and pulled out his Beacon ID and weapon license before handing them over to the officer, staying dead silent the whole time. All eyes on the train were now on him, he knew it, all because of this racist prick.

                The cop looked over both documents carefully before looking back at Nero. “You’re in training at Beacon Academy, Nero?” he asked, reading the name off the ID flippantly.

                Nero nodded. “Yes, sir. We’re allowed to openly carry our gear as Academy students…” he began before the cop handed back the information.

                “I know the law, kid. I’m obligated to make sure anyway,” he grumbled, as the airtram hovered to a halt at the City station. “You can have these back.”

                The officer had already left the tram by the time Nero strapped both holsters back to his hips, and as he and Marcus headed for the station exit, he realized he’d been breathing much more rapidly than before. He sat down for a minute on a station bench to catch his breath, while Marcus clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly.

                “The people they give badges to…” Marcus seethed, his eyes scanning the crowd for the officer. “I wish I’d recorded that whole thing. Could’ve posted it all over the web…”

                Nero hardly processed any of it; he was still calming down from the experience. It wasn’t the first run-in he’d had with law enforcement, but Vacuo had never carried quite the same lethal risk as Vale did. All things considered, he had been lucky, in a twisted sense.

                “Bastard clearly saw I was armed too and he didn’t say shit,” Marcus continued. “If he wasn’t a cop…”

                Nero held up a hand for Marcus to stop, having finally gathered his senses. “Marcus, you need to calm down now,” he warned his friend. “I appreciate what you’re getting at, but I can feel your Aura from here.”

                Marcus shook himself and slowly unclenched his fists, taking a few deep breaths. That had been too close for comfort, but he could hardly help it.

                “I’m sorry, Nero,” he apologized. “I just…are you okay?”

                                Nero gave him a thumbs-up, and checked to make sure his daggers were securely fastened in place. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “For now, we need to get to South City. If Blake brought company with her, that’s likely where they’ll be. Lower police presence, higher poverty rate, no one reports anything there.”

                Marcus nodded, grasping at Ascendant where it was strapped to the back of his waist before they both slipped into a darkened alleyway and began their climb to the rooftops. Nero’s daggers sunk into the concrete like knives into butter as he used them as climbing axes. Marcus followed closely behind, alternating between Ascendant’s short form and his other hand until they reached the vacant rooftop.

                The city, despite the time they had spent there, still felt surreal from their perspective. In Vacuo, lights went out as the sun set, and all sound fell away from those looking down. Vacuo, for all its rough edges and recklessness, felt so peaceful. Beacon City, on the other hand, refused to sleep. Neon burned brightly on all storefronts. Traffic whizzed by, honking and screeching as people continued with their busy lives. The rush of activity never faded or dulled. It was chaos, Nero thought to himself. Chaos is easy to blend in with.

                Nero lined his fingers up with the stars above, tracing the Maiden’s Laurel constellation to the last star, its southernmost point. They were in Beacon Central, just under a kilometer from where they needed to be. Navigating the city by daylight was easy enough, but Nero had always trusted the stars more than roads. They changed less often.

                “This way,” Nero whispered, sprinting low across the rooftop before leaping the gap onto another, Marcus close behind. There was a clear path before them from building to building, all of them thankfully unlit.

                As they neared South City, the neon signs began to flicker much more frequently, some of them sputtering weakly before going out altogether. Vacant windows with cracked glass became more common until there were entire buildings left abandoned. People roamed the streets below with more furtive glances and one hand constantly jammed in a pocket. Nero and Marcus knew the setting well; a neighborhood of forgotten people. You could slip off the map here and no one would ever find you.

                _Perfect place for Blake to run away to_ , Nero thought, skidding to a halt on top of a deserted apartment building. Marcus peered over the edge of the roof, eyes scanning the streets below.

                “Alright, it doesn’t look like anyone saw us,” Marcus stated, taking a seat on the concrete. “No sign of Blake, but I doubt she’ll be easy to find.”

                “She won’t be,” Nero agreed. “There’s a reason most people never heard the Belladonna name. They’re good at staying hidden.”

                Nero twirled his daggers and checked the alleys below. One of them was completely empty, just what he needed. He whistled to Marcus, and pointed downward before hopping over the ledge, digging his daggers into the wall as brakes on the way down. Once they reached the ground, both of them quickly sheathed their weapons, surveying the shadows for any unnoticed observers they might have missed.

                “All clear in the buildings,” Marcus whispered, tapping his foot twice on the ground as one of their signals. “Ground?”

                Nero replied with two more taps. “You want to stick to the usual routine?” he asked. “Pick an informant and shake ‘em down?”

                “Sounds good to me,” Marcus agreed, popping his neck to one side. “There’s a front-business not far from here, Junior’s Nightclub. That might be our best place to start.”

                “How do we get in? I ditched our fake IDs before the flight from Vacuo, and you bet a front is going to card guests if they can,” Nero pointed out.

                “Owner doesn’t ever card, trust me,” Marcus reassured him, peeking around the corner of the alley onto the street. “It’s more hassle to report underage customers than to have his bouncers escort them out, way I heard it.”

                “Alright,” Nero said, checking the Dust reserves in his daggers. “Who’s your source?”

                                “Yang, but you do not want to mention her by name around that club,” Marcus answered as they both stepped out onto the street. “Owner doesn’t seem to like her very much.”

                “Noted. We’ll do this one by the book.”

                                “Been a while since I got to play good cop, honestly.”

                The club was closer than either of them realized, an oversized monstrosity of red neon and black tile on the street. It looked like it would be more at home in the high-class West end, but it screamed ‘money-laundering cover’ to Nero. No one was walking in or out, yet the music and lights were running at full capacity, and thuggish bouncers guarded the door in matching black suits and red aviator glasses.

                “That’s the place,” Marcus muttered. “Same as usual?”

                                “Yeah,” Nero replied. “You do the talking. I’ll take point.”

                “No purse-cutting this time. This has to be fast.”

                                “Hey, that was your job back at Shade…point taken.”

                The two of them strolled up to the door confidently, eyes straight ahead despite the bouncers’ inching slowly closer to block the door. Marcus paid them no mind, while Nero shot them both meaningful glares as needed. This was an old game for them, even if the bouncers were very clearly packing heat.

                As Marcus came within arm’s reach of the door handle, the bouncers finally seemed to have had enough, and blocked their path completely. “Hold it right there, pal,” the one on the left warned in a low voice. “You and your friend don’t look like you’re on the guest list.”

                The bouncer on the right flashed his weapon; a low-end submachine gun. Nero recognized the brand. It couldn’t do much to a full Aura, but not many people knew how to use that advantage outside of Huntsmen and Huntresses. These saps were thicker than a concrete wall.

                Marcus sighed loudly in mock frustration, and crossed his arms as he locked eyes with the left bouncer. “Do you have any idea how far I had to walk for this meeting?” he asked the man, tapping his foot impatiently. “You and I both know there’s not a guest list. I’m here on business, and Junior’s not gonna be happy when I tell him his boys kept him from collecting on some liabilities.”

                “Our boss don’t do business with Vacuoans,” the bouncer responded, spitting at Marcus’ feet. “Our clientele is strictly local.”

                “Well, I’m in your neighborhood right now, aren’t I? I’d say that makes me local,” Marcus shot back, smirking nastily. “Besides, you two don’t want to cause a scene out here where everyone can hear those peashooters. Cops ignore a lot around here, but I doubt they’ll ignore gunfire.”

                “Are you asking to take this inside, punk?” the other one threatened, aiming his SMG at Marcus’ gut. “Or am I hearing you wrong?”

                “Dust almighty, I am asking you two to stop wasting my time with this bullshit so I can pay off my debt to Junior,” Marcus snapped, as Neo grabbed the one on the left by his tie. “Now move aside so we can all just get on with our lives.”

                The bouncers exchanged uncertain glances, before the armed one shrugged and gestured inside. “Alright, fine,” the one in Nero’s grip conceded, rubbing his neck as he was released. “Head on inside, we’ll let the boss know, okay?”

                “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Marcus asked with a condescending smile as Nero took a step back. “Have a good evening, gentlemen. I’ll be sure to give Junior your regards.”

                The two of them stepped through the front doors, leaving the bouncers humiliated outside. The inside of the club was a showcase in cognitive dissonance. Disco lights, laser displays, and a lit up dance floor meshed seamlessly into the orgy of light and thumping sound that filled the club, making it all the more eerie that no one was there except for more black-suited henchmen and two girls in extravagant ballet costumes who watched them closely from above. Nero flattened his ears instinctively against the painfully loud EDM blasting over the speakers, but gave no other indication that he was uncomfortable. He and Marcus would be done here quickly, assuming everything went by the book.

                They strolled right up to the neon-lit bar, Marcus slouching on a stool as casually as he could manage while Nero stood stone-still behind him, letting everyone know he was watching for any funny business. The henchmen could only maintain eye contact for a few moments before they decided random bits of floor might be less likely to kill them for looking at them, but the ballet girls simply frowned in response.

                _Well, those are the real enforcers_ , Nero thought. _Good to know_.

                                “Ugh, what does a guy have to do to get a STRAWBERRY SUNRISE around here?” Marcus groaned, making sure the name of the drink was loud enough for anyone to hear over the music. Nero raised an eyebrow, unsure if that was meant to be a signal, while everyone in the bar suddenly seemed much more interested in their guests. A few of them were reaching for their weapons, and Nero casually flashed his daggers in response, popping the release clasps on both holsters for a moment until everyone seemed to ease off a bit.

                “I’m guessing they don’t serve cocktails here, Sid,” Nero muttered, using the cover name Marc had used back in Vacuo. “I’d try a Glenn Sour, honestly.”

                “Nah, I’m definitely wanting a sunrise,” Marcus replied, tapping his foot once to show he understood the message. “Thanks for the suggestion, Julius.”

                A door near the back of the bar opened, and a bearded man in a black vest with a white shirt came storming towards the bar with murder in his eyes and what appeared to be a rocket launcher in his hands. Marcus raised an eyebrow, looking around the bar for a moment before asking “where’s the problem?”

                The man locked eyes with Marcus, and he seemed to get control of himself again, shrinking the rocket launcher into a baseball bat before placing it somewhere behind the bar. He ran a gloved hand through his already slicked back hair, put on a forced smile, and crossed his arms in front of him as he met his guests.

                “Careful what kind of drink you order in my club, kid,” he suggested to Marcus, leaning forward on the bar countertop. “My staff tends to be a little overzealous in how critical they are of certain tastes.”

                Marcus nodded thoughtfully, and reached into his pocket for a wallet. Again, Nero saw the henchmen reaching for their weapons, and he snarled.

                “Easy, easy,” Marcus soothed, putting his hands where everyone could see them, wallet clenched in his right. “No need for us to get messy, just ordering a drink.”

                “You don’t look of age,” the bartender scoffed.

                                “You don’t seem like you much care,” Marcus pointed out, and the bartender nodded. “But I’ll stick with something weak, since you seem concerned. I take it you’re Junior?”

                “Who’s asking?” the bartender replied, glancing at Nero over Marcus’ shoulder. “I’ve never seen you two before, but my boys tell me you’re here to pay a debt.”

                “And pay, I will. You want to go about your business, I want to go about mine.” Marcus said, gesturing to the bar. “I hear this place makes killer milkshakes. I’ll have one of those, if you don’t mind.”

                The man named Junior grunted in annoyance, but once he saw the cash in Marcus’ hand, he relented and put together the drink behind the bar before scooting the scalloped glass across the counter to Marcus.

                “Should I put a cherry on top too?” he asked mockingly, his tone a little lighter now.

                                “Oh, absolutely,” Marcus said, feigning excitement. “You know how us kids get with our sweets.”

                Junior pulled out a jar of candied cherries and slid it over to Marcus. “Add them yourself,” he said. “Now, what’s this debt you supposedly owe me, Sid? That’s your name, right?”

                Marcus raised a finger as a sign to wait while he took a long slurp of the milkshake, enjoying the building frustration on Junior’s face before he finally licked his lips and smiled. “Damn, that is a good milkshake,” he said, sliding the drink over to Nero, who grabbed it while keeping his eyes on the rest of the patrons. “Yeah, I’m Sid. Let’s get to business; I hear you’re the guy to go to for information on people who don’t want to be found, and I also hear a certain destructive guest racked up an impressive tab she has yet to pay you for.”

                “Blondie?” Junior shouted incredulously, and there was an audible scratch of vinyl as the music stopped. “Don’t tell me she’s trying to make up for wrecking this place last month…”

                “She doesn’t know I’m here, don’t worry,” Marcus assured him, snickering as Nero slurped at an obnoxious volume on the milkshake. “But I do have a fair portion of money from her, and I’m willing to pay a sizable chunk of her debt off right now if you help me out. Interested?”

                Again, Junior looked over Marcus’ shoulder at Nero, eyeing his daggers. “That depends. Is your friend going to cause trouble?”

                Marcus laughed. “What, Julius? Nah, he’s just people-watching,” Marcus lied. “Doesn’t talk much, but he’s not going to make any problems if none come to us.”

                Junior crossed his arms again, tapping a finger anxiously as he thought the deal over. Marcus kept his fingers crossed under the counter, hoping Junior would take the deal. Nothing had gone against usual routine so far, but something felt off…

                “How much you got?” Junior asked, and his eyes bugged out as Marcus slid one-thousand in lien cards across the counter to him. “Oh, that much.”

                “She owes you nine-hundred, if I’m not mistaken,” Marcus said flatly, watching Junior’s greedy gaze. “I’ll pay it all, with interest, right now if you can give me the information I need.”

                Junior nodded, and collected the cards. “You’ve got a deal,” he said. “What do you need to know?”

                “Earlier this morning, two things happened. The first; a Beacon student, likely a Faunus, disappeared in the city, seen heading south from Dust ‘til Dawn,” Marcus said, filling in some details with made-up garbage. “The second; I heard a certain group of unpleasant insurgents saw fit to show up in the city recently. The White Fang, to be specific.”

                “Both of those stories ring a bell,” Junior admitted. “Why?”

                                “So you know about them, good,” Marcus continued, covering up his shock at Junior’s answer; the White Fang really was in the city somewhere. “I need the most recent locations for both parties. That’s all.”

                Junior snapped his fingers towards the dance floor, and the music began playing again, drowning out everyone else. He leaned forward and whispered in Marcus’ ear.

                “The student you’re looking for has been hanging around the cargo pier, where the Schnee Dust Company transfers shipments,” he whispered. “The other group, and you did not hear this from me or I will string you up from the rafters, has opened up shop with a shady bunch in North Central City. I don’t know what they’re up to, but I hear the cell is getting ready for something big, and you’d best keep clear of it. In fact, you’d best forget I told you any of this if you value your life.”

                Marcus nodded thoughtfully, and shook Junior’s hand with the biggest shit-eating grin he could manage. “Aw, thanks for your concern,” he joked, before getting up from his seat. “A pleasure doing business with you, sir. Are we clear on her debt?”

                Junior scowled. “Her debt’s paid,” he conceded. “But letting her back in the bar wasn’t part of our deal.”

                “You’re right, it wasn’t,” Marcus said. “But so long as she’s not getting people sent after her to kneecap her, that’s fine. We’ll see ourselves out.”

                Nero finished the milkshake with a loud belch and slid the glass back to Junior before wordlessly following Marcus out of the club, thankful to be away from that annoying bass-heavy noise. As they left the building and the sight of the bouncers, Marcus and Nero both let out a sigh of relief and high-fived each other.

                “Nicely done,” Nero complimented, wiping whipped cream from his upper lip. “You haven’t lost a step.”

                “Same to you, man,” Marcus replied with a smile. “I thought you were going to make that bouncer piss himself. It was a nice touch.”

                “Well, we’re not that out of practice, I guess,” Nero suggested, stretching. “Let’s hit up North Central. We’ve got a mess to make.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, baby. This may be the most fun I've ever had writing a chapter for this series yet. I'll admit that I'm a bit rusty on writing dealing scenes like the one at the end, but the style to those scenes is just too spicy a meme to pass up (what the hell am I on about)?
> 
> Well, only three or so chapters left in volume one! The finale will easily be the longest of them, and then it's on to writing Volume 2! Let me know what you guys think so far in the comments below, and thanks for reading!


	12. Episode 11: The Docks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero and Marcus catch up to Blake and demand answers, but they're all caught off guard by the arrival of an old enemy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Violence, Strong Language.

Roman Torchwick closed his eyes and took a deep puff on his cigar, savoring the smoky bite for a moment before letting it all out in a practiced smoke ring. One of these days, the vice was going to catch up with him, but he was under an extraordinary amount of stress as of late. He wasn’t used to this ‘contracter’ work, not when he’d gotten so used to running his own syndicate for so long. Now was not the time to switch to nicotine patches.

                The note on his desk had arrived over an hour ago, and he still felt his blood boiling in indignation. His current employer was apparently growing dissatisfied with his efforts, and was demanding he double his current ‘inventory’ within the month.

                “Flaming bitch nearly cost me an aircraft, and now she….,” he started to rant, before adjusting his bowler hat and stretching. “Whatever. It’s fine, we only lost the one aircraft, everything’s fiiiine. I’ll just have to double the shifts.”

                Losing Junior’s hired guns had cost him greatly, and the replacement workers his employer had supplied weren’t exactly the kind he trusted. The White Fang weren’t like other criminals. Most mobs would be happy to obey pretty much any order he gave if he paid the right price, but extremist groups were tricky. They didn’t care about money as much as their ideals, and Roman knew that if he gave them any reason to think he was against their goals, they would turn on him.

                _Can’t be helped, can it?_ he thought, pressing a button on his walkie-talkie. “Attention, all staff,” he said, slipping back into his more professional persona. “Top brass just handed down a change of plans. Apparently, our division is behind schedule, despite everything we’ve hauled in, so we need to accelerate our operations as of now. That means double shifts from now on. I don’t like it either, but I’m just the messenger here. Remember, bosses don’t shoot the messenger, so if we can’t meet our quota, I can’t guarantee everyone’s safety. As you were.”

                Roman tossed the device to the back of his desk and slumped down in his chair. As soon as the job was done, he was taking a vacation to Vacuo. He’d earned it at this point.

                “Neo, do me a favor and make sure none of them are sleeping on the job, would you?” Roman asked as his silent companion stood at attention. “If you find someone who is, make sure to get their names for me.”

                The woman named Neo smiled mischievously and curtsied dramatically before disappearing in a shower of something akin to glass. Roman lowered his bowler hat over his eyes and relaxed, drifting off to sleep. Neo could handle things for an hour or two.

 

                Nero lowered the scarf covering the lower half of his face for a moment, catching his breath as he and Marcus peered out over the port district of Beacon City. Cranes swiveled back and forth slowly, carrying massive metal containers to their respective destinations, while freighters pulled into the bay every now and then. All in all, it looked about how Nero expected it to, and nothing seemed amiss. Then again, they were tracking one person, not the White Fang cell that Junior had blabbed about.

                Marcus was silently relieved he had managed to convince Nero to stick with the original plan instead of going after the extremist group’s apparent base of operations. They had tangled with the White Fang several times back in Vacuo, but never in anything more than street brawls. Junior made it clear that an attack on their turf here would be more like a full siege.

                “Any sign of her?” Marcus asked, watching the docks for activity. “We’ve been staring at these ships for hours. I feel like I’m going to be getting seasick in my dreams tonight.”

                “I don’t see her,” Nero replied, spinning Orcus anxiously on its tip as they waited. “You think Junior gave us bad info?”

                Marcus bit into a mango he’d grabbed from a store as a late snack, and shook his head. “I’unt…sorry, I don’t think so,” he mumbled past the mouthful, offering Nero a different fruit from the bag. “His eyes were on mine the whole time, and I saw no tells. If he was lying, he’s a damn good liar. Come on, eat something. I know you haven’t had much today other than the milkshake.”

                Nero nodded and grabbed an orange out of the bag. Stopping for stakeout snacks had been a good call, even if it had cost them some time. He didn’t even realize how hungry he had been until he started peeling the fruit in his hand.

                “Nero, look, I don’t like the White Fang any more than you do,” Marcus said. “But are you sure we aren’t taking this thing with Blake a bit far? I know it all lines up, but I feel like some of this could be just coincidence.”

                Nero paused, inspecting the orange as if looking for imperfections. “I don’t know, Marc, maybe?” he admitted. “Maybe it is just a coincidence. White Fang are in the city, Blake Belladonna is just starting at Beacon, maybe it’s just by accident. But that’s a big maybe.”

                “That’s fair,” Marcus said, studiously digging the pit of the mango out. “Can’t hurt to be sure.”

                                “Yeah,” Nero agreed. “Hey, Marc?”

                “What’s up?”

                                “Thanks for doing this. Seriously.”

                “No worries.”

                                Nero wrinkled his nose in frustration; there was no sign of Blake anywhere in the city so far, but he knew she’d be hard to find. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the stars as he enjoyed his late-night snack. The shattered moon seemed just as bright here as it was back in Vacuo, but the stars felt more distant, dim and helpless to reach them with their light.

                “So how’d your chat with the esteemed leader go?” Marcus asked past a mouthful of mango. “You told me you were gonna talk to him, yeah?”

                Nero let out a long breath and gave him a thumbs-up. “Shit was serious, but I think it went well. Guy’s got a lot to deal with. Keepin’ it confidential for now though.”

                “Got it,” Marcus acknowledged. “After hearing from Team Juniper about the row he and Pyrrha had, I was kind of scared.”

                Nero grunted in agreement, but said nothing. He was going to be exhausted in the morning, thanks to the stressful weekend. But for now, they needed to get things straightened out with Belladonna.

                “Nero, did you see that?” Marcus asked, lowering his voice suddenly. “Down by the shipping containers, three rows over.”

                Nero sprung back to his feet and followed Marcus’ finger to the spot. He could hardly make out finer details at this distance, but there was definitely someone there. There were two people, in fact. One was unfamiliar, a blonde boy with a white shirt and popped collar, but the girl with him…

                “Let’s move,” Nero urged, leaping the concrete barrier between them and the docks with his daggers ready. “I’ll cut them off…”

                “…And I’ll flank them,” Marcus finished for him, extending Ascendant to its full size as he split off towards the shipping crates. “Careful with the other guy, could be a problem.”

                They both went their separate ways, looping around the shipping container rows to the far side, closest to the water. Nero pulled the scarf up and over the lower half of his face as he got ready to move in for the trap. If he was wrong about Blake, this would be awkward, but if not, he had to be ready…

                _So does Marcus_ , he thought, a chill going down his spine. Nero had heard plenty about what the Belladonnas had done during the rise of the White Fang, but few others had. A lot could go wrong in the next few minutes.

                “Hey, what’s your problem, buddy?” a male voice demanded from the other side of the crates, and Nero tensed. “Point that spear somewhere else…”

                “Marcus?” another voice, Blake’s voice, called out. “What are you doing here?”

                                Nero took that as his cue, and whipped around the corner, weapons raised. Blake raised her own blade to meet them, but not fast enough to stop Nero from using the daggers to keep her pinned against the crate.

                “Who sent you to scout, Belladonna?” Nero demanded, locking Blake’s sword in place with the hooked edges of his daggers. “Was it the Albains? Khan? Did Taurus send you?”

                The last name seemed to hit a nerve, and Blake was suddenly behind Nero, her blade transformed into a pistol. “Who are you?” she demanded, while the other Faunus kept Marcus busy. “Wait, Nero? What are you trying to pull here?”

                “Why is the White Fang in the city, Blake?” Nero insisted, aiming the Dust end of his daggers back at her. “Seems pretty convenient that they’re here at the same time as you. Start talking!”

                “Wait, they’re here?” Blake asked, lowering her gun slightly. “No…wait, how do you know?”

                                “Because there’s a Belladonna in the city, and some people remember what that name means,” Nero told her. “But you’re working with them, aren’t you?”

                “No,” Blake snapped almost immediately in response, raising the edged sheath for her sword in anger. “Never for them. Never again.”

                Nero’s eyes went from Blake, to Marcus, to Blake’s friend. She didn’t seem like she was lying, and her friend wasn’t wearing a Grimm mask. On the list of names to run away from in a hurry, Belladonna was near the top, but it had been a very long time…

                “Blake, do you…dude, lay off! Blake, you know these people?” the Faunus boy asked, still doing his best to keep Marcus at bay.

                Finally, Blake sheathed her sword, but her eyes didn’t leave Nero for a second. “Classmates,” she answered bluntly, even as Nero kept his daggers where they were. “I think.”

                “People don’t just ‘stop’ being in the White Fang, Blake,” Nero growled, fingers twitching around the Dust triggers. “Everyone knows that’s not how it works.”

                “Who said they knew where I was?” Blake shot back. “They lost track of me, and I’d like it to stay that way. I swear, I’m not with them.”

                Nero lowered his daggers slowly, but didn’t sheathe them. Everything about the situation was still screaming at him to attack, but Blake seemed genuinely scared at the concept of the White Fang being in Beacon City. She wasn’t lying.

                “Marcus, we’re done here,” Nero called out in frustration. “Call Yang, let her know we’ve found her partner…”

                “Don’t!” Blake interrupted, and Marcus froze with his scroll ready to dial for Yang. They both looked back at her in confusion.

                “Blake, she’s worried about you, and you’re partners,” Marcus said calmly. “She deserves to know that you’re okay.”

                “You said the White Fang is in the city,” Blake cut him off, her fingers tapping nervously. “If that’s true, they need to be stopped, but I won’t drag them into this. I don’t want her…them to get hurt.”

                “So you’ll take them on alone?” Nero asked incredulously, almost laughing. “Smart move. Come on, you need to get back to Beacon…”

                A loud crashing noise interrupted them from further down the pier, and all of them exchanged worried glances as the sound of angry shouting became audible. A motorboat sped past them in the dark, headlights off, towards the sound of the crash, but everyone saw the symbol on the driver’s shirt; a Beowolf skull crossed by three ragged clawmarks.

                “Dust, no…” Blake breathed, shaking slightly while Nero stormed off towards the sound of the crash with Marcus.

                “Ready to make a mess, Marc?” Nero asked, popping his knuckles eagerly.

                                Marcus shrugged and hefted Ascendant onto his shoulder, pulling back a slide over the firing chamber inside. “I’m still stocked on ammo,” he stated casually. “You good on Dust?”

                “Loaded up and ready,” Nero confirmed. “Let’s do this.”

                                Another crash echoed from the other end of the docks, and they stopped. Smoke was rising from the pier to the north, in the exact opposite direction of the White Fang. Nero cast a meaningful look at Blake, and she nodded before taking off to the north with her friend in tow.

                “So do you believe her?” Marcus asked as he spun Ascendant around his arm.

                                Nero nodded. “Yeah. We’ll be sure after tonight.”

                The two of them cleared the rows of shipping containers, and saw a sizable crew of White Fang soldiers offloading Dust crates into a landed VTOL. All in all, there looked to be about forty present, not including the driver of the boat. It wasn’t long before one of them noticed the pair heading their way, and shouted out an alarm call. Blades began flashing as they were drawn from sheaths, and guns glinted malevolently in the light of the shattered moon.

                “I’ll take the twenty on the right, you take the twenty on the left,” Marcus suggested, lowering his spear to waist level. “Sound good to you?”

                Nero smiled enthusiastically. “You read my mind,” he replied, shifting the dagger in his left hand to a reverse-grip. “Take ‘em out, don’t fire on the Dust crates.”

                “Be careful, Nero.”

                                “Same to you, Marc.”

                The two continued their approach, giving no indication that they were worried in the slightest about the weapons pointed their way. A taller fighter stepped forward through the crowd, dragging a massive chainsaw-sword behind him. His mask, unlike everyone else around him, covered his full face, signifying higher status.

                “You two have five seconds to drop your weapons and surrender peacefully,” the elite warned them, his voice deep and tinged with an unclear accent. “I will not repeat myself.”

                “What’s that?” Marcus taunted, strolling closer casually. “You want to drop your weapons and surrender peacefully? Cool!”

                Nero rolled his eyes, suppressing a laugh as he broke off to the left of the group, eyeing them closely. He recognized the style of masks the fighters were wearing, covering only the eyes and nose but with no red striping. These were mostly initiates, a lesson he remembered from one of his brawls with them back home.

                “One…” the elite began counting down, gesturing for his comrades to advance. Marcus dragged the spearhead of Ascendant against the pavement, sending up a trail of sparks.

                “Two…”

                                Nobody waited for him to get to three. Nero took off like a bullet around the group’s flank, ducking and weaving around the frantic gunfire coming his way. The few bullets that managed to meet their mark grazed harmlessly off of his Aura, barely even chipping away at his energy as he closed in on his target. The initiates began panicking, backing up hurriedly as he barreled straight into them with daggers raised.

                “Hold the line!” one of them shouted, right as he was slashed across the chest by Nero, sending him spinning into another fighter. His left arm still raised to guard, Nero lunged forward with his right dagger as he parried an overhead blow as if he were swatting a fly. The crude machete strike bounced harmlessly back as his second strike hit the mark dead on, tearing through another initiate’s aura with enough force to knock her out cold. The mob started to scatter away from the enemy in their midst, dropping their guns in favor of close range weapons.

                On the other side of the crowd, Marcus carefully danced around each strike thrown at him, his movements deliberate and fluid as he sized up each fighter. None of them gave the impression that they were very skilled or even coordinated with their fellow fighters, striking with obvious attacks and desperate lunges. Marcus plunged the spearhead into the earth, using the handle as a fulcrum to launch into a horizontal spin away from another hit before planting his feet squarely in his attacker’s back. None of them were quick learners either, it seemed.

                _Well, at least this will be easy_ , he thought with a smile, wrenching Ascendant from the ground before slamming the flat of the spearhead into the side of another masked fighter’s head. The blow was all it took to drop them out of the fight, and Marcus shifted his focus to a new target, twirling the spear like a windmill before him.

                The elite seemed to realize that his subordinates were somehow losing the fight already, and revved up his chainsaw loudly before charging at Marcus with the weapon raised. Marcus looked up just in time to notice the incoming attack, and smashed the chainsaw aside with Ascendant’s handle. The elite staggered backward in surprise, but was clearly not out of the fight yet.

                “Arrogant human,” he growled, twisting into a spinning slash that missed Marcus entirely, and instead knocked out one of his soldiers. Marcus spun around on one heel, his spear braced against his back as he delivered a flurry of rapid blows against his new enemy, forcing him onto the defensive.

                “He’s got freaking pocketknives, for Dust’s sake!” one of the terrorists shouted from the left flank as Nero smashed through their defenses in a whirlwind of steel. “Will someone just take him out already?!”

                A sizable blade swung straight at Nero’s neck, just missing as he tossed his daggers into the air and somersaulted under the strike, finishing by ramming both feet straight between the fighter’s legs. He caught Orcus and Poena as they came back down, turning their Dust nozzles against the fighters and spraying a mixed cloud of bolt and burn Dust around him. While they struggled to clear the air, Nero sheathed his daggers and drew every particle he could into his palms, letting the volatile energy build for a second before releasing it all in a blast of pure plasma. The cone of energy sent his targets flying, dissipating before it could travel very far but still managing to carve a deep furrow into the concrete in front of him.

                _No time to celebrate_ , Nero thought, running to Marcus as quick as he could manage. _End the fight. Put ‘em down. Avoid semblance for now._

Marcus was locked in combat against the chainsaw-elite, neither of them able to land a single one of their hits but both swinging at full force. Marcus’ strikes were becoming less fluid and more feral, like the spear itself was carrying him into the attacks. All other combatants had been taken care of, and Nero smirked as a foolish idea popped into his head.

                The elite locked his blade against the handle of Marcus’ spear, the steel teeth trying desperately to eat away at the metal shell in its way. Marcus held steady against his enemy, but this guy was simply stronger than he was, and he was forced to his knees as he kept the chainsaw at bay. His aura was starting to burn around his neck, a worrying sign he recognized all too well.

                Suddenly, Nero leapt onto the elite’s back and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, putting him in a headlock as he was caught off-balance. His chainsaw moved away from Marcus, swinging wildly as the elite tried to throw the unexpected hitchhiker off of his back. Nero dug his heels into the fighter’s back, right behind the kidneys, and twisted both feet as harshly as he could before jamming the Dust nozzle of Poena underneath the mask and pulling the lever all the way to the base. A cloud of burn Dust was blasted up into the mask as Nero loudly shouted “smoke bomb,” causing a rapid sneezing fit from the elite. Nero dropped off and stepped back, bowing cheesily to Marcus. “As you were,” he joked, and Marcus smiled, lowering the spear to aim straight at their sneezing foe.

                A single trigger pull was all it took, and Ascendant fired a spearhead directly into the elite’s chest, detonating on contact and smashing him backwards into a shipping container with enough force to dent it. With the last of the White Fang finally incapacitated, Marcus and Nero began the first phase of their three-step handshake, laughing loudly.

                “Dust, I can’t believe you’ve never tried that one before!” Marcus howled, wiping away tears of laughter. “I don’t think he’ll ever live that down, assuming the cops don’t show up soon.”

                Nero put his hands behind his head and smiled cockily. “Everyone plans for swords and guns,” he admitted, searching the elite’s pockets before finding a sealed envelope and stowing it. “No one plans for the smoke bomb.”

                A loud screeching noise echoed from the north end of the docks, and the two of them turned to see a massive beam of green light piercing the clouds above before slowly dissipating. Two VTOLs were caught in the blast, and plummeted from the air in pathetic heaps of scrap. Smoke was practically pouring from the area now, and Nero sighed.

                “Think we should help them out?” he asked reluctantly.

                                Marcus shook his head, pointing to a swarm of helicopters covered in flashing red and blue as they approached the area. “I think they’ve got things under control,” he stated. “C’mon, let’s bail before these assholes wake up. I want to see what’s in that letter.”

                Nero nodded, and then his smile grew almost comically wide as he looked back at the White Fang fighters lying unconscious on the ground. Marcus followed his gaze, and his eyes widened as they landed on the stacked Dust crates, just far enough away from everyone to safely detonate…

                “Oh, you are EVIL,” he joked, taking aim at the crates. “Get ready to run, sirens are gonna be here really soon.”

                “Race you back to Beacon?”

                                “You’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I fully admit to giving Nero the Remnant equivalent of pocket sand. No Ragrets (TM).


	13. Interlude 11.5: Burying the Hatchet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude to conclude Verris' arc, as he seeks to make amends with Pyrrha...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Strong Language

Verris stood quietly in front of Team Juniper’s door, fist half-raised to knock but frozen in mid-air. A week had passed since his outburst, and the time spent recovering from his injury had given him plenty of time to think on his situation.

                His nightmares hadn’t stopped over the past week, but they’d become far less frequent, and he’d been able to talk to Nero about them when he needed. The anxiety he’d been carrying for weeks had lessened greatly, allowing him to focus more on his team, but he was still distracted by one issue, and it was likely waiting on the other side of this door.

                Pyrrha hadn’t deserved for him to attack her the way he did on the rooftop that morning, he knew that already. But just because he’d finally accepted that fact didn’t mean it fixed everything else he’d fucked up. He was supposed to represent Venom properly, and his behavior had done the exact opposite.

                _Just knock, Verris. It’s not like you don’t know how_ , he told himself, still frozen in place.

                                _What if she’s not there?_

_You can let her teammates know you’re looking for her._

_And if she doesn’t want to listen?_

_Then I’ll try again._

Verris shook his head and ignored the nagging doubts biting at his brain, finally knocking against the smooth white door once before taking a light step back from the door. He winced as his ankle flared in pain, but the recovery was nearly done.

                “C’mon, please let someone answer,” he muttered under his breath, his tail twitching nervously behind him. “This needs to be done.”

                He could hear Aethyr’s words screaming in his head, lashing out with horrible insults for daring to make peace with the Invincible Girl. You’re worthless, weak, a coward…

                _Piss off_ , he fired back, ignoring the vestiges of his mother’s conditioning. _I’m not yours to control._

Minutes seemed to pass as Verris waited in silence at the door, hoping he hadn’t knocked too lightly to be heard or that he wasn’t being ignored. His left knee started to ache where it pressed against the prosthetic attached to it; he probably needed to replace the socket lining soon. As he raised his fist to knock again, the telltale click of a lock turning stopped him, and the door opened just wide enough for Verris to see Ren looking back at him.

                The black-haired boy’s gaze narrowed slightly for a moment, and Verris cringed as he understood just how badly he’d messed up before either of them spoke.

                “What?” Ren asked bluntly, his tone far more severe than Verris had ever heard before.

                                “Is…is Pyrrha around?” Verris asked, trying his best not to stumble over his words as his chest felt tighter. “I was wanting…well, I guess I need to talk to her about something, if it’s not too much trouble. Sorry, I know it’s late…”

                Ren raised an eyebrow and ducked out of sight behind the door for a moment before nodding quietly in response. “Come in,” he said, stepping aside as he opened the door for Verris to enter.

                Verris quietly thanked him and limped inside, favoring his ‘good’ leg just a bit as he turned towards the common area of the dorm.

                Team Juniper’s dorm couldn’t have been more different than his own, with every inch of the floor scrubbed spotless and devoid of trash. The areas around the beds each showed off the personalities of their respective owners. Sweets and dumbbells rested next to Nora’s bed, while comic book posters and a game console sat on the nightstand next to Jaune. None of this did much to distract Verris from the fact that three of the team members were dead silent and giving him concerned looks as he approached Pyrrha’s desk.

                She was hunched over a stack of lined paper, crossing out and marking up the writing with red pen methodically before flipping to the next page. The handwriting could only have been Jaune’s, messy and jumbled in a way that hurt Verris’ eyes to read, and he wrinkled his nose in slight distaste. Pyrrha finished marking the sentence she was working on before calmly setting the pen down and leaning back in the chair.

                “How’s your ankle doing?” she asked flatly, not meeting Verris’ gaze.

                                Verris shifted his weight to the other foot for a moment, ignoring the dull throb of pain that radiated from near his heel. “It’s better,” he answered. “The nurse said it should be recovered in a few days.”

                Pyrrha nodded thoughtfully. “That’s good to hear,” she said, as if she was expecting something else.

                A brief few seconds of awkward silence passed between them as Verris rushed to figure out what he even wanted to say, rejecting sentences as quick as he could come up with them before Pyrrha finally cleared her throat loudly.

                “Look, I wanted to talk about what happened…you know, on the roof the other morning,” Verris started awkwardly, his eyes going to his shoes nervously. “Just the two of us. I mean, if that’s okay, I understand if you don’t really want to.”

                Pyrrha had already gotten up from her desk and gestured to the dorm room door, and Verris stopped talking, his heart sinking as he nodded. “Yeah, I understand,” he said, limping back to the door. “Sorry to bother you, I’ll go.”

                Pyrrha gave him a confused look before shaking her head. “I wasn’t telling you to leave, Verris,” she corrected him, following him into the hall. “You want to talk one on one, then we can step out for a moment.”

                “Oh.”

                                Pyrrha closed the dorm room behind her before turning to face Verris, her arms crossed in that same expectant manner as before. Now that they were face to face, Verris found his resolve crumbling. He had absolutely no idea where to start with her, but he needed to do this now. Finally…

                “I want to apologize, Pyrrha,” he started, unable to look her in the eyes as he forced the words out with the same ease that one might push a hammerhead shark out of a shampoo bottle. “I was angry and scared and I lashed out at you over something that wasn’t your fault and…I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything to deserve any of what I said.”

                He waited for a response, but heard nothing from her as she stood there and listened. His tail flicked slowly back and forth behind him as he forced himself to actually look at her. For once, he couldn’t get any sort of read on what she was thinking, despite how expressive she usually was.

                “Part of me was hurt that you didn’t get help back in Sanctum, I admit it,” he continued, fidgeting in place despite how much easier the words were coming to him now. “But that doesn’t mean any of what happened to me was your fault. I know that now. I treated you like garbage then, and I treated you like garbage here. I didn’t know what else to do without blaming myself for everything, but you were trying to help and I just tried to hurt you and…Pyrrha, I can’t explain how much I wish I could take back everything I said.”

                Again, silence, and Verris could feel his heartbeat in his head as he waited to for Pyrrha to say something, anything to let him know that she had been listening. He was a moment from just giving up and excusing himself when she finally let out what sounded like a sigh of relief.

                “Thank you, Verris,” she said, smiling warmly at him as she uncrossed her arms. “I know this is all still very complicated, and I can’t imagine what it must be like to have gone through what you have, but it means a lot to hear this from you.”

                “Still doesn’t excuse my being an asshole…”

                                “Language!” Pyrrha interrupted quickly. “Sorry, I come from a kind of uptight family.”

                “My bad,” Verris apologized, stifling a laugh as his anxiety washed away. “I guess what I wanted to say is that I want to move on. I’m ready to move on, and part of that means I want to start over. As something other than rivals, if that’s okay.”

                Pyrrha paused for a moment, looking carefully at Verris’ outstretched hand as if weighing her options before shaking it with her typical kind smile. A chill ran up Verris’ arm, and he felt ready to take on anyone in the school at that moment. He’d finally managed to do something right, and Aethyr couldn’t lay any claim to it.

                “I think that’s a splendid idea,” Pyrrha agreed. “So, from the beginning?”

                                Verris laughed, and forgot the pain in his ankle. “Hi, I’m Verris. Verris Emedio,” he said, the first time he’d ever properly introduced himself to her.

                “My name is Pyrrha Nikos,” she replied, bowing slightly in response. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Verris.”

                Pride surged in Verris’ chest as he felt himself slipping farther away from everything in his past. This, a small and simple act of hope, was the first thing he’d ever been allowed to decide for himself, but even if it was small, it was his.

                This was what victory felt like; not bringing an opponent to their knees in battle, but something else. Something brighter and gentler than anything he’d ever been taught.


	14. Episode 12: Cover Up, Double Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus finally pulls through on his grandest scheme yet (they've all been offstage until now), even as a deep-seated phobia gnaws at his thoughts. Perhaps, just for now, they can enjoy themselves. Good ol' wholesome content.

                _Sand. All around him, mountains of shifting grit and dust glittered in the light of the hot Vacuo sun. The heat was like standing at the mouth of an open blast furnace; insistent, aggressive, and violent. Even the wind was like fire, carrying the songs of silence on sadistic tongues that had never touched so much as a drop of water. He had only just started to wake up, but a single instinct reached his brain in the midst of the great nothing; live._

                Marcus rubbed his hands together gleefully as Verris and Nero entered the mostly empty banquet hall, carrying a box of Dust canisters between them. His plan to get Eliza to finally ask Coco out had failed like an Atlasian startup company, but this next idea had been in the works for far longer.

                “Is that it?” Marcus asked the two of them, peering into the open box as they carefully lowered it onto the floor, the canisters clinking against each other gently. When he explained his idea to them, he’d figured they understood the scope of it, but now that he was looking at the Dust supply they’d brought…

                “Trust me, it’ll be more than enough,” Verris assured him with a smile, removing Vosgedge from the sheath on his back and screwing one of the canisters into place. “If you paid attention in Dust Sciences, you’d remember that the energy output for a single Dust crystal is twice the…”

                “Yeah, yeah, I’ll promise to start studying more, you nerds,” Marcus interrupted with a wave of his hand. “But will it work? We’re not just going to get frost all over the floor, right?”

                Nero put his hands on his hips and scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Ye of little faith,” he drawled in a forced Atlasian accent. “To imply that we didn’t test this ourselves, why I never…”

                “Nero did most of the number-crunching on the formula,” Verris explained, high-fiving his partner. “Never could have figured this out without him.”

                Nero smiled a bit, wrinkling his nose as he did to a somewhat comical effect. “Ew, praise, get it away from me,” he joked. “No, but seriously, we should be able to turn this whole damn room into a winter wonderland pretty quickly. You ready?”

                Marcus nodded enthusiastically, and motioned to Eliza, who looked somewhat out of place in her white parka and hiking boots. “Eliza, go ahead and send out the message! You know who to talk to,” he told her, and her face went red.

                “I mean, can I just message Velvet instead?” she asked, flustered. “I mean, the other names you gave are fine but I just don’t know if it’s such a good idea after I spilled all that juice on Coco yesterday and what if she’s really mad about it and doesn’t answer and…”

                “Is this because she changed right in front of you afterwards?” Verris asked, checking the tank before opening Vosgedge into its dust-sprayer form. “Because Yatsu says that’s pretty common.”

                “S-shut up, I’ll send the message!” Eliza stuttered, trying her best not to smile at the taunt before sending out the group text to Nora, Ruby, and Coco and jamming the scroll back into her pocket roughly. “It’s not like I asked her to do that or anything.”

                “Yeah, well, Adel has no shame,” Marcus pointed out. “Can never tell what she’s gonna do. Alright, Verris, let ‘er rip!”

                Verris pulled back on the trigger, and a massive spray of snow, so thick it looked like a directed avalanche, came streaming out of the barrel. The floor was quickly hidden under inches, and then a foot of snow that spread out to the far corners of the banquet hall, piling up in dunes around the tables and pillars. The first can emptied out, but not before a full two feet of snow filled the room, with drifts reaching up to several feet higher in places.

                Suddenly, Eliza looked a lot more prepared for the night than the rest of them.

                                Verris switched to the second canister, piling up the snow in more directed areas for dunes and drifts, smiling more than any of them had ever seen. Marcus checked his scroll; the other teams would be here soon.

 

                _Was it days? Or had it been weeks? Time seemed to slow to a crawl, no, it had ebbed out altogether in the burning sands, like everything else._

_His waterskin was lighter than before, hardly indicative of the rate he’d been rationing it out at. No more than a mouthful a day, but then it became a sip, and now, a few drops. The wood-handled knife in his hand was growing eager; he needed to trap something soon. Life meant an oasis nearby, which meant food and water were never far._

_It felt as though the burning sun would never set…_

 

                A loud knock on the hall doors brought an even bigger smile to Marcus’ face. This was going to work out perfectly. He reached for the handles and flung open the doors as dramatically as he possibly could, silently thankful that the snow hadn’t piled up close enough to block them from opening.

                “Right this way, and I hope you all brought mittens,” Marcus greeted them with a bow. “Because I forgot and I’m honestly regretting that decision right now.”

                Teams Coffee, Ruby, and Juniper all stumbled into the snow-filled landscape that was their banquet hall, most of them seeming to realize now why they’d been instructed to bring cold-weather gear. Ruby and Nora had already plunged face first into the snow, arms waving frantically to create snow angels, while their teammates took in the sight. As Marcus closed the doors behind them, he popped his neck to both sides. _Time to get this show on the road._

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called you all here today,” Marcus began, stepping into the center of the room between two massive snowdrifts. “With exams having just finished up and the professors mostly gone for the weekend, I figured…”

                “PRE-EMPTIVE STRIKE!” Nora shouted over Marcus, dunking an oversized snowball onto his head with a triumphant battle-cry.

                Marcus stood where he was, frozen mid-sentence while the other teams began reaching for snow as discreetly as possible. Near the back wall, Verris stowed Vosgedge behind a counter and tossed Nero a snowball.

                “No weapons,” Marcus announced, his face still covered in more white powder than a Schnee Dust Freighter (author’s note: look, we know I wanted to say ‘Coke addict’. You know it, I know it, we all know it. Let’s just accept that that’s not what happened here and move on). “Last team standing wins.”

                “Wait, what?” Weiss began to protest, only for the others to drown her out with excited shouts.

                                “SNOW MERCY!” Yang shouted, only to be immediately smacked in the face with a snowball from Eliza across the hall, who dropped her ammo and pointed to Verris.

                “Alright, go!” Marcus said, and every team split to opposite corners of the room, building up defensive walls and stockpiling snowballs for the fight.

 

                _Name. What is it? Can’t drink from it. Can’t eat it. Name is useless. Don’t need to know._

_Water. Need water. And prey. So hungry, could kill glow-tail beast. That’s not its name. That doesn’t matter. Can I eat the dark ones? How do they taste? How hard is it to get past the bone-masks and spikes? Can’t carve bone with this knife. Focus on natural food._

_So long. How do I know that? Is long something that comes with days? Can’t see time. Can’t smell it, or taste it, or hear it, or feel it._

_No, I can feel time. Time is starvation, and thirst. Keep moving._

_Are we still moving east? Have the stars changed?_

_Need to eat something. Need to kill something to eat it. Need to kill to eat. Need to kill._

_Kill…_

_KILL._

 

                Team Coffee had already dug up enough of the tables and turned them into barricades against the onslaught of snowballs. They had dug in quick, and no one was going to move them out of their makeshift bunker anytime soon. Yatsuhashi deflected each shot as it came, while Coco, Velvet, and Fox took turns sprinting around the field in guerilla attacks. The other teams quickly learned to take what shots they could when Coco was out; she played it cocky.

                Team Ruby was nowhere to be seen, which worried everyone else far more than their rivals who were currently pelting them with snow. They had disappeared under the surface when the fighting started, and trenches had been formed in the dunes now, shifting suddenly with movement. Every so often, one of them would pop up from below and unleash a burst of snow before disappearing back into the trenches, and that was that.

                Venom and Juniper, however, had taken up positions atop the two biggest snowdrifts in the room, each of them towering at about ten feet high with steep slopes. Venom had constructed a wall of ice and snow, freezing it in place with water, before Eliza and Nero began absolutely unloading as much snow as they could, as fast as Marcus and Verris could ball it up. No one could return fire on them without getting smacked in the face with either the stream of snowballs Nero was flinging or the massive boulders of snow that Eliza tossed like pebbles.

                Team Juniper couldn’t have been any less alike. Jaune had taken up crafting as many snowballs for Pyrrha as he could, and she hadn’t missed a single shot yet. Her aim was calculated, precise, and deadly. Already she’d managed to snipe Blake, Verris, and Fox straight in the head less than a second after any of them popped out of cover, and her hit count was steadily climbing. Ren, on the other hand, was steadily rolling up larger and larger snowballs, while Nora launched them into the air with hammer-like blows that somehow failed to disintegrate the orbs on impact. The effect was incredibly similar to that of sustained mortar fire for those below, and Team Ruby had already begun avoiding her line of fire much more obviously.

                Suddenly, a shadow burst from the snow at the foot of Venom’s snowdrift, revealing Blake and Yang as they hurriedly scaled their way higher up the pile, dodging everything Nero and Eliza threw at them.

                “They’re climbing up here, guys!” Nero shouted to his teammates as he ducked a shot from Yang. “A little help?”

                Verris’ face lit up, and he pointed to the oversized snowball supply he’d been making for Eliza. “Just roll them over the ledge and let gravity work her magic!” he explained, losing his balance as a shot from the Juniper fort hit him in the shoulder, followed by an extremely polite “I’m not sorry!”.

                Eliza grinned as she picked up one of the boulders and hefted it to the edge of the wall, the shadow looming over Blake and Yang. “Special deeeeeliveryyyy!” she sang out, her grin spreading wider as the two looked up and blanched at the growing mass of snow bearing down on them.

                The snowball had grown into a massive boulder by the time it hit them, flattening them both into the drift as it passed and slammed straight into Team Coffee’s barricade, shaking one of the tables loose with the impact.

                “Verris, you’re a genui….oh, Dust!” Eliza shouted as a shot from Nora sent her spiraling off the edge of the fort and rolling along the same path as the boulder had. Blake and Yang were still picking themselves out of the snow when Eliza knocked them over again, before she slid to a halt right in front of Coco.

                One would be correct in assuming that the snow around Eliza’s face should’ve been melting in that moment, as Coco leaned over and smirked at her.

                “You come here often, Miss Aurum?” she asked, slowing her words for effect while Eliza’s eyes bugged out.

                “Uhhhhhhhh…..”

                                “You do realize the fight’s still on, right?” Coco reminded her, raising a snowball casually in her hand. “Shame; you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

                Eliza’s mouth dropped open in shock, right before Coco smooshed the snowball against her face with a soft laugh. Somewhere near the top of Fort Venom, Marcus was screaming “YES” at obnoxious volume.

                _This is perfect_ , he thought, even as Pyrrha landed her third consecutive headshot on him. _A chance for us all to unwind and hang out. We needed this._

He looked to Verris, happier than he’d ever shown himself capable of as he bobbed and weaved around the shots coming their way, returning fire with…was that laughter? Verris knew how to laugh sincerely? He seemed like a different person altogether.

                Eliza and Coco had already stepped out of the match, it seemed, and were talking over to the side quite happily. Marcus had no intention of trying to force the issue again so soon, but the closer Eliza was to fessing up on her crush, the sooner he could stop having headaches from watching her fumble her words whenever Coffee came into view. It was actually kind of cute. _A clumsy giant and a tiny fashionista…_

And then there was Nero. Dust, he’d scared him shitless the other night when he was interrogating Blake, even if he understood, but it had proven to be a lapse. More than anything, Marcus had wanted Beacon to start opening doors for them, showing Nero how to trust the world again. And it was working, in inches, yes, but it was working all the same. He’d never seen Nero smile so frequently before…

                _We’ll stick together, even after all of this_ , he thought to himself, as Yang propelled him down the slope and into one of the trenches with a pun that he couldn’t quite process, despite the knowledge that it made him cringe. _Team Venom is gonna rule the world…_

_______________________________________________________________________________________

_Hunger. Hunger drives the kill. Feed hunger and kill again. Teeth and claws, rip and tear._

_Never satisfied. Satisfaction is stagnation. Pursue the kill. Let the kill drip from teeth and run down neck._

_Small lizard. Crunchy, squirms for a bit. Tastes fine, not poisonous. Keep moving._

_That smell. Water. Water ahead. Not a mirage. Town present. Grab food. Kill if you have to. Take it all. Survive…_

_Suddenly, the boy’s thirst was quenched. As he shoveled water into his mouth, the haze around his eyes faded. He had made it. He’d survived. A hand touched his shoulder, attached to a Faunus child…_

 

                The snow had finally melted by the time Team Ruby declared victory. All other fighters were either too exhausted to keep up, or just too cold. Coco and Eliza sat at one of the tables, ignoring the melting snow as it got into their socks. Eliza didn’t seem to be stammering at all anymore.

                Verris was helping Pyrrha and Jaune over by one of the trash cans. The poor blonde had taken a nasty hit to the head, and the headache had made him nauseous. Marcus wished he didn’t know why Verris was so good at treating injuries, but it wasn’t a bad skill for him to have. Still, the shock of seeing his team leader getting along with Team Juniper, and Pyrrha of all people, was going to take some getting used to.

                Nora and Ren had passed out in the melting snow, collapsed on top of each other in a sickeningly adorable mess. A loud drone echoed off the walls. The stories about Nora’s snoring seemed to be more than true.

                Team Coffee had already begun to help Nero and Marcus with the cleanup, using burn Dust to dry the floors off before any damage could be done to them or the tables. It didn’t matter how long it took to clean, it had been worth it.

                Team Ruby, on the other hand, were all resting up against each other, panting heavily from the exertion of the snowball fight. Marcus could have sworn he saw Yang’s fingers brushing lightly over Blake’s, but didn’t give it a second glance. They worried him last week. It had taken so little to split the team apart, and even if that hadn’t been the result, it meant no team was guaranteed.

                _We can’t let that happen to us_ , Marcus thought, frowning as he understood what that meant. _And that means no more secrets. None._

Marcus tapped Nero on the shoulder, and sighed. Nero understood, even without words.

                                Eliza and Verris needed to see the letter they had stolen. They deserved the truth.

               

 

               

YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS ANOTHER PAGE OF CONTENT, BUT IT WAS ME, A JOJO REFERENCE!


	15. Finale: A New Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero and Marcus come forward to the rest of their team about the raid on the docks, and formulate a plan to deal with the White Fang. But midterms are starting, Ozpin is watching closely, Eliza still hasn't asked out Coco, the prom's tommorrow, and Lebowski still can't find his money!
> 
> Hey, I can have fun with the summaries if I want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Strong Language, Graphic Violence, Angst.

                Marcus’ teeth were grinding slightly behind his lips, an anxious rhythm to match the ticking clock at the courtyard’s edge. He had seriously regretted asking Nero to keep the stolen letter from the White Fang instead of reading and destroying it on the spot, but there hadn’t been time to think on it. Now he and Nero were just waiting for their teammates to say anything.

                “Verris, will you please stop pacing?” Marcus suggested, as their leader traced the same small path into the dirt repeatedly. “We’re all a bit on edge here.”

                Verris’ ears twitched in response, and he stopped for a moment before he began pacing again. His eyes were wide and his nostrils flared, like a cornered animal trying to figure out how to escape.

                “Look…I mean, I get…I get why you told us,” Verris admitted, his speech uneasy and broken as he forced himself to take a breath. “We can’t be keeping big secrets from each other. I should know that really well by now, but…this is just a lot to take in at once.”

                Eliza nodded quietly, looking at the opened letter on the grass. She couldn’t think of any reason that Marcus and Nero would make something like this up, but the concept of it all was pretty unbelievable. She picked up the paper and held it to the moonlight, as if there were some hidden message on the sheet.

                “So this is really from them?” she asked, trying to find fault with the insignia at the bottom of the letter. “They’re really here in the city?”

                Nero nodded. “Marc and I ended up taking on at least forty fighters before we lifted that off one of them,” he confirmed. “It’s real.”

                “Of course it is, Eliza,” Verris snapped agitatedly, his voice rising. “It has their banner, we all heard about the busts on the docks the other week, and there is no one who can forge Sienna Khan’s signature that well... I’m sorry, you were just asking a question. That was rude on my part.”

                Eliza perked up and swiveled her head in Verris’ direction so fast it seemed like it would snap clean off. “Wait, why do you know what this person’s signature looks like?” she asked, almost scared before it switched to a look of recognition. “Oh, right. Your dad. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…nevermind.”

                Verris put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled. “You’re fine, Eliza. It’s not something I tend to broadcast. In his defense, he left when Khan was put in charge. Hated the idea of violence against people.”

                “All the good ones left when they could,” Nero added, before grabbing the letter again. “But look, we don’t want there to be secrets on this team. You both deserved to know about this.”

                “After seeing how close Team Ruby came to breaking apart over one little secret,” Marcus started to say, but stopped himself abruptly.

                Eliza nodded thoughtfully. “So, what now?” she asked them. “We’ve got to report this to someone, right? Ozpin will know what to do.”

                “Bad idea,” Nero said immediately. “We’re just students, remember? Why on earth would we be able to get our hands on something like this?”

                “…and the second we explain the letter to him, he’ll have to get the police involved,” Verris continued for him, biting his lip in frustration. “And things will go downhill from there in a hurry. A team with two faunus students, one of whom had a known White Fang sympathizer as his father, just happen to get their hands on a White Fang letter?”

                “We’d all be suspected of conspiring with the White Fang,” Eliza finished, coming at last to the same conclusion as the rest of the group. “So we can’t take it to the authorities, can’t take it to Ozpin…what if we slipped it under his door without anyone seeing us?”

                “Cameras,” Marcus pointed out. “Also, his office doesn’t have a door, just an elevator. No way to leave it there for him without someone else discovering it. Police would see us on cameras too.”

                “So there’s nothing to do about it, then.” Eliza said with a sigh. “Nice.”

                                “That’s not true,” Verris spoke up, his ears standing straight up in the air. “We’ve got the midterm break coming up in three days, right? We’ll handle it ourselves.”

                Eliza wasn’t the only one who looked at him in surprise. Nero was making a repeated “bad idea” motion with his hand in front of his neck, while Marcus’ jaw just hung open in shock. Verris looked around and shrugged. “What?” he asked them all, his tail swishing behind him. “Who’s to say we can’t? We’ve been training to fight and defend, haven’t we?”

                “Well, yeah,” Eliza conceded. “But we’re training to fight Grimm, not international terrorist rings. You don’t fight Grimm the same way you fight people.”

                “Then what have we all been doing in Goodwitch’s combat course? Is all that just for fun?”

                                “No, but we’re asking you to think about this more carefully, Verris,” Nero urged him. “You never fought any Grimm before the initiation test, and the only people I’ve seen you fight were in one-on-one battles.”

                “I never said we’d be fighting by ourselves against them…”

                                “Nero and I only made it out of that fight with the White Fang because we’ve fought them before, Verris,” Marcus interrupted. “Back in Vacuo, we constantly had to defend ourselves from them. We’ve been learning to beat them our whole lives. No offense, but you and Eliza aren’t ready for what you’re suggesting. You don’t know the new White Fang like we do.”

                Verris wanted to argue, but decided against it. He knew they were right; the only serious fights he’d been in had been against other students, and even in a one-on-one, he’d been unable to win several times over against certain opponents. _I’m way out of my depth here_ , he thought.

                “For now, let’s just keep an eye on things. According to this letter, they’re moving outside the walls of the city,” Eliza pointed out. “I don’t like that they’re anywhere near us, but I think we’re safer while they’re in the middle of moving things around. You can’t fight and pack up shop at the same time without losing a step, right?”

                “That’s…a really good point, Eliza,” Nero said, happily surprised by her suggestion. “Marcus and I can check the dock areas and North-Central over break without drawing much attention. So long as there’s not an attack, we should be okay for a while. They would’ve taken a big hit after that fight a couple weeks ago.”

                “My only real worry is the Torchwick guy this memo brings up,” Marcus said, pointing to the name. “I’ve heard about him on the news recently. He sounded like a small-timer, but ever since that attack on Dust ‘til Dawn in Central, more Dust has gone missing whenever he pops up. He’s gotta be more than just a supplier.”

                “You sure about that?” Eliza asked.

                                “Trust me, he’s someone to keep an eye out for,” Marcus repeated. “Look, for now, let’s just focus on finishing out the midterms. Nero and I will take care of this when we can. We just figured you should know too.”

                “Thanks for that,” Eliza said with a smile, nudging Verris. “We appreciate it…right?”

                                Verris tore his eyes from the clock tower above them, the office still lit, and nodded. “Yeah,” he mimicked flatly. “Thanks. It means a lot to us.”

 

               

                The next day…

 

                Verris let out a contented sigh as he left Professor Port’s lecture hall, having finished the Grimm Studies midterm in the first twenty minutes despite having a two hour limit. Nero had managed to beat him by a few minutes, and it didn’t seem that Marcus was that far behind either of them. Eliza, unfortunately, didn’t seem to be doing well when he left. Maybe he should’ve helped her study last night.

                “You don’t seem too worried over your results,” Verris heard Pyrrha say. “Port’s test certainly gave me a run for my money.”

                Verris raised an eyebrow at her, smiling knowingly. “Oh, please, you and I both know you aced that thing without a thought,” he joked. “Probably beat me by a single percentage point, too.”

                Pyrrha’s eyes darted away nervously for a moment. _Probably out of habit_ , Verris thought, before the look disappeared and her smile returned. “I wouldn’t be too sure,” she admitted politely. “You’re practically his star student, Verris.”

                “Nah, that’s Nero,” he corrected her, taking a seat on the bench next to her. “You saw how fast he finished. I can tell you exactly how tall a Goliath stands when it rears up on its back legs, and how fast a Boarbatusk can charge, but Nero can tell you exactly how hard they hit, how to take them down, all of it. He’s got experience that I don’t.”

                “That you don’t have _yet_ ,” Pyrrha reminded him sternly. “Neither of us grew up in Vacuo, to be fair. Grimm have far larger numbers there than any other kingdom.”

                Verris nodded in agreement, but it did nothing to calm the aching feeling in his gut that had persisted since the previous night. He found his thoughts drifting to the clock tower again…

                “Verris? You there?” Pyrrha asked, waving her hand in front of his eyes, and he realized he’d been completely spaced out for half the conversation. “Everything okay?”

                Verris popped his neck and smiled. “Yeah, sorry,” he told her. “My mind was drifting. Did you say something?”

                She rolled her eyes. “I just wanted you to remember to rest up tonight,” she said, pointing to the next day on her scroll’s calendar. “We have a midterm match in Goodwitch’s class tomorrow, and for once, I’m looking forward to it.”

                _Oh, shit, that’s tomorrow!_ Verris laughed, and offered her a handshake. “You know what, I think I am too,” he told her with eagerly. “Maybe I’ll actually win this time. Who knows?”

                Pyrrha’s smile turned into a smug grin, and Verris felt his face flush for a brief moment. “We’ll see about that, Verris,” she taunted (even her taunting was polite, for Dust’s sake). “Oh, there’s Jaune! Sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

                Verris waved to her as she left with her teammate. “I’ll see you in the ring, Nikos,” he replied. “Good luck!”

                As she disappeared around the corner with Jaune, Verris found his thoughts drifting back to his teammates. That aching worry returned with them, as did the memories of that clock-tower office.

                _This isn’t something I can put off_ , he told himself, remembering Nero’s advice on the day he broke his good leg. _Now or never_.

                He left for Ozpin’s office, wondering if there was a secretary he was supposed to notify first on his way.

 

                Eliza’s arms were dripping with sweat from the heat as she pulled the forged chunk of steel from the blast furnace with a pair of tongs. Nero waited over by a strange machine with a solid piston sticking out of the main body as Eliza brought the metal to the machine’s anvil. The block glowed yellow from the heat, and sparks leapt from its surface even after light contact with the anvil. Nero took an impulsive step back, but Eliza didn’t flinch for an instant. Even with her arms, face, and neck left exposed to potential sparks, she had learned this method of metal-working long before she came to Beacon.

                Most Hunters used plasma cutters, 3-D printers, and mechanical production to make their gear now. It was faster, more precise, and more appealing to most. Eliza, however, refused to trust a machine to build gear that wouldn’t fail her. She’d spent entire summers with her uncle, learning how to forge arms and armor the old way.

                “Alright, so you’ve never seen how to use a power hammer before, right?” she asked Nero as she wiped the sweat from her brow. “Because this is the tricky part of armor crafting, so you should really pay close attention to what I’m doing if you haven’t seen this before. Not that I thought you weren’t or anything but…anyway, here goes.”

                Eliza stepped lightly down on a pedal by the base of the machine, and slowly, the piston sprung to life and began slamming into the molten block of metal repeatedly, speeding up and slowing down to match the pressure Eliza put on the pedal. Pieces of the metal sprung off on each impact, most of them bouncing harmlessly off the ground or even Eliza, their heat dying out too fast to burn her. Each impact compacted the steel down into a denser form, eventually flattening into a metal square about a foot in width and length. Satisfied, Eliza let the power hammer wind down, and moved the square to another anvil, directly on the horn.

                “You teach yourself how to do this?” Nero asked, raising his voice as Eliza began to bend the metal around the horn with powerful hammer strokes. “I don’t think I know anyone who makes armor or weaponry like this anymore.”

                Eliza shook her head, continuing to bash the metal into the shape she needed. “My uncle Phillip taught me, back when I attended a Huntress prep school in Atlas,” she explained. “Every summer, I’d work the forge with him, and he’d teach me how to make gear the way my family used to, before the country was even called Atlas.”

                Nero whistled in admiration, watching her movements carefully to figure out how she was planning on turning the rough panel of metal into a functioning pauldron. “Isn’t it a lot more work to do it this way, though?” he pointed out as Eliza dunked the now roughly-pauldron shaped piece into a barrel of oil, setting it alight as she withdrew it. “I heard it takes days to make the pieces this way.”

                “It takes longer, sure,” Eliza admitted, dipping the oil-soaked metal into a barrel of water with a loud and angry hiss. “But machine-made weapons are all about how fast you can make them, or how much and for how little…erm, no offense, I don’t mean to say they’re poor quality. But making it by hand teaches you exactly how much or little you need. You end up learning how to repair your gear as you make it, how the pieces slot together. It’s about trusting yourself over an assembly robot.”

                Nero nodded understandingly, casting a curious look over at Eliza’s armor. The golden finish on it was just paint, true, but the piece itself still looked like it had been made with more precision than a person could manage. It looked like every higher-end factory product he’d seen, but better.

                “So he helped you make your armor, then?” Nero asked, leaning back to avoid Eliza’s arm as she tripped over a stray bolt, catching herself on the anvil. “I thought it was just really high-grade machine steel.”

                Eliza’s smile widened as she picked up one of the greaves to her set, letting the foundry lights glimmer off of the finish. “Well, he helped me start to make it…but I had to finish it alone,” she said. “I was only a first year in the prep school, back when I was 13 and before I was six feet tall, so I had to teach myself how to reshape and adjust it over time. My uncle probably would’ve laughed himself to tears over how many times I dropped a hammer on my foot while building this…”

                “Did something happen to him?” Nero asked her, watching attentively; Eliza seemed fixated on that particular piece of armor, and noticed that it was slightly smaller in shape than the other greave. “You said would’ve. Past-tense.”

                Eliza’s smile dropped a bit. “Before I was born, he fought as a draftee for Solitas in the Great War,” she explained, tracing her fingers lightly over the trim on the piece. “They didn’t issue really good gear for their soldiers back then, and my uncle had a piece of shrapnel lodged in his chest. They got most of it out, but one of the pieces managed to work its way to his lungs over time. He died in his sleep the night after he helped make this piece.”

                Eliza offered the greave to Nero, and he hesitated to reach out for it. Something about it felt wrong, like this was a piece of her history, and he had no right to hold it. But the fact that she had even offered only reminded him of how greatly Eliza had always trusted the team.

                Nero reached out and let Eliza place the metal piece in his hands, and was surprised at how heavy the piece was for its small size. If Eliza had been wearing armor like this for the past three years, it was hardly a shock that she looked strong enough to punch out an elephant. The piece was thinner than the other pieces, but smoother and more streamlined. Streaks of tarnish were just barely visible on the surface, speaking to its age. _She hasn’t changed this piece since it was made_ , Nero realized, before he handed it back to her carefully.

                “I don’t think I’ve ever seen armor like it,” he told her calmly. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to him.”

                Eliza sighed, but her smile only grew. “He’s the reason I enrolled in the academy system, actually,” she told him. “My mom and dad wanted me to join the Atlas Army when I grew up, like them. They were worried about me becoming a Huntress, but my Uncle wasn’t. He said Hunters can do what soldiers can be ordered not to do; follow their heart. He was so proud of me when I made it into the Ilsa Schnee Prep Academy…”

                Eliza stopped, noticing that Nero’s ears had flattened against his head at the mention of the school, no matter how he tried to play it off. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up,” she apologized, reaching for the now-cooled pauldron and testing how the metal fit against Nero’s shoulder.

                “It’s just a name,” Nero said, even though his heart wasn’t fully behind his words. “Don’t worry about it.”

                “No, Nero, it’s not just a name,” Eliza argued. “A lot of people from Atlas try to pretend that company is the greatest thing on earth, that the family is perfect and oh look at how well-behaved little _W h I t l e y_ Schnee is and don’t you know that Winter is such a paradigm of service…ugh.”

                “You don’t like them either, I take it?” Nero remarked with a small laugh. “I never would have guessed that, honestly.”

                “The Schnees are everything wrong with Atlas, and its people,” Eliza said, her voice tinged with just the barest hint of distaste. “They have wealth, but they keep it all to themselves, including the stuff they don’t need. They know how bad things are in those awful ghettoes, but they still exploit the Faunus for labor instead of helping them. Weiss might, MIGHT, be the only Schnee I’ve ever heard of who wasn’t every inch as cold and careless as the rest of them. Everyone in Atlas wants their child to be just like her. My parents weren’t even proud I’d gotten into Beacon until they heard she was going here as well. Do you know what they said?”

                Any doubts Nero had once had about Eliza were quickly dissipating, but he said nothing, allowing her to keep working as she vented.

                “They told me ‘our daughter is going to be just like Weiss Schnee; a proper Huntress’!” she seethed, pulling just a bit too tight on the strap of leather she was measuring around Nero’s shoulder for the moment. “They were so happy to hear about me because of someone else. Not because of me...”

                Satisfied with the measurements, Eliza recorded them, and took a break from her work for a moment. “I know how people here see me, Nero,” she went on. “They see the klutz, the polite little girl from a well-off Atlasian family with gear she can only afford because of her family. They look at me, and they see another wannabe Weiss. They see the Atlas stereotype. They don’t see me.”

                “Nah,” Nero replied casually, looking over the armor she had already put together for him despite his assurances that he didn’t need it. “They see you.”

                Eliza smiled a bit weakly, but shook her head. “You don’t have to say stuff like that, Nero,” she said. “I’m used to blending in.”

                “Liz, you’re like six-foot three and could probably suplex a train, and you’re one of the most polite people I know,” Nero told her. “Weiss is tiny, boring and rude. You two are nothing alike, trust me. No one here thinks that.”

                “You moron, I know none of you think that,” she jabbed back, trying to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes as her smile grew. “I never felt that way with my teammates, but it’s with other people…”

                “And other people actually like you, Eliza,” Nero cut her off, looking over the lightweight body-armor Eliza had made for him. “You’re loud, you’re fun, you’re happy. Weiss’ own team can hardly stand her. No one compares you to her.”

                “Thank you…” Eliza said after a long and awkward silence, looking suddenly worn out.

                                “We’re teammates,” Nero said. “We have each other’s backs.”

                “Like in that fight against Cardin and Russel?”

                                Nero let out a barking laugh of approval. “Exactly like that,” he replied. “Although I don’t know if I can exactly lift someone off the ground one-handed like you.”

                “I don’t think you have to worry about that when you can run circles around the enemy and hit them on every lap,” Eliza countered. “I could hardly even keep track of where you were.”

                Nero shrugged cockily. “What can I say, I’ve got a lot of practice,” he said, hoisting the piece that was supposed to protect his torso and finding it surprisingly lightweight. “Seriously, you didn’t have to do this for us. Marcus and I have never really needed armor.”

                Eliza joined Nero, evaluating her work carefully. “My uncle said that someday I’d be glad to know how to make it, that there’d be someone I wanted to protect,” she said. “I didn’t understand what he meant until I met all of you. You, Marcus, and Verris. You guys are the people who’ve really made me feel like I belong somewhere, so…”

                Eliza turned to face Nero, her brown eyes as gentle as they always were. “I know you and Marcus have fought them before. I won’t ask why or how,” she said. “But now that I know how much you two are going up against, I have to make sure you’re still safe. Please, just promise me you’ll take this armor with you when you’re going after the White Fang.”

                Nero nodded silently. The armor was so light that he didn’t think it would slow him down, but there was genuine worry in Eliza’s words. She truly was afraid to lose them.

                “Of course,” he said, still secretly admiring just how precise Eliza had been in making the sets. “We’ll try to stay out of trouble, but we’ll be prepared for it anyway.”

                Eliza’s smile returned as bright as ever, and she bounced excitedly back to the forge, packing up her work and turning off the equipment for the day. In truth, she could have spent hours more there, surrounded by metal and blazing furnaces, but it was getting far too late to continue, and her last exam was in the morning.

                She had meant every word, of course. This team was something the Aurum family never was, and could never hope to be. Strange as they were, they were something she couldn’t lose. Something she would not lose.

 

                Ozpin calmly took his seat behind the clockwork desk, glad as usual how practiced he was at hiding worry. He had already made Verris wait nearly the whole day for a meeting with him, and it was not a common circumstance that drove students directly to him.

                Then again, there was hardly anything common about Team Venom.

                                “Thank you for your patience, Mr. Emedio,” Ozpin began, retrieving a piping hot cup of coffee from beneath his desk. “It has been, as I’m sure you’re aware, an incredibly busy week for everyone, but I still make time for my students when they need it.”

                Verris bowed his head slightly in what Ozpin could only assume was meant to be a sign of respect. “Thank you, Headmaster,” he said quietly, his eyes not quite meeting Ozpin’s. “I know it was pretty short-notice.”

                “All the more reason for me to assume that whatever you need to discuss is quite serious,” Ozpin replied, nearly burning his lips on the coffee before wisely setting it down. “So, what’s on your mind?”

                Verris opened his mouth to answer, and then slowly closed it. The words seemed caught in his throat; an admission of some sort? Children were often not the most direct about discussing their problems with adults, true, but Ozpin tried to bridge that gap whenever he could…

                “I don’t feel like I’m a good leader,” Verris whispered, sounding ashamed of himself. Ozpin’s thoughts immediately went to Aethyr Emedio, as did his temper; this was her fault.

                “Now, why on earth would that be?” Ozpin asked, laughing mildly enough to seem cordial, but not dismissive. “Your scores are consistently above-average, you’ve gone above and beyond for your teammates before, and you’re one of a select few students I’ve met who truly dedicated themselves to such a degree in becoming a Hunter. I fail to see how you wouldn’t be a good leader.”

                “I don’t know, Headmaster,” Verris told him, his ears flattening out and to the side. “It’s just this…feeling I’ve had for a while. I feel like I’m out of my depth, I guess.”

                Ozpin nodded understandingly, leaning forward in his seat. “Ah. Well, that’s quite understandable. Many first-year students often feel overwhelmed by the scale of becoming a Hunter and working with a team,” Ozpin explained to him. “Team leaders in particular tend to become fixated on how they measure up against others.”

                “It’s not just that,” Verris corrected him, fidgeting in his seat as he did. “Since I got here, I’ve noticed just how bad I am about my temper and planning. I keep throwing myself straight at problems without thinking, my temper keeps getting me in trouble and I…I just feel like a leader shouldn’t be someone like me.”

                Ozpin raised an eyebrow, and took a careful sip of his coffee before responding. “Do you know why I chose you to lead, Mr. Emedio?” he asked. “Has it ever occurred to you to think what reason I could have had to put you in charge of a unit that will be together for four years?”

                Finally, Verris looked him in the eyes, clearly confused but far more attentive. Ozpin’s lips twitched at the corner; he was getting somewhere with the boy.

                “I…I don’t know, a bit? I mean, I’ve tried to figure out why, but nothing fits,” Verris admitted. “I’ve never been the kind of person I would look up to, if I’m honest.”

                “Your desire to improve, Verris, that’s why I choose you to lead Venom,” Ozpin finally told him. “All students want to sharpen their skills and knowledge, but as I said in my convocation speech, knowledge can only carry you so far.”

                “Headmaster?”

                                “So many who attend the Academies assume that all they need in order to succeed as Huntsmen and Huntresses is to get good grades and satisfy the requirements our school has of them. They expect that knowledge will make them better,” Ozpin told him. “But so few of them realize that it is their efforts, their own work and not just class scores, that will carry them to success. I saw what you were capable of in the Emerald Forest. You met resistance, you clashed with your partner, you acted impulsively…”

                He set his mug aside again and leaned back into his chair. “But then you changed course, almost immediately. You realized what wasn’t working and changed it. You altered your approach to teamwork in response to how you thought it was affecting your partner. You adapted, and it’s because you were willing to look at yourself and see what needed to be changed, instead of just what you were doing right.”

                “Thank you, Headmaster,” Verris said. “But just because I know what I’m doing wrong doesn’t make me someone who should lead.”

                “A leader drives their teammates to improve, and drives themselves to do the same,” Ozpin countered. “I have seen that time and time again in you, Mr. Emedio. I understand that you may doubt yourself, but I want you to know this. I’ve said it before to more than a few students, and I feel it bears worth in telling you now. I have made more mistakes than any man, woman, or child, but your leadership is not one of them.”

                “Thank you, Headmaster. I didn’t mean to disrespect your judgement,” Verris replied softly. “I didn’t want to scare my team, but I needed to talk to someone about it.”

                “I understand completely,” Ozpin assured him, getting up from his seat. “You don’t have to trust my judgement, Mr. Emedio. But I do ask that you trust yourself a little more. Can you do that?”

                Verris nodded quietly, and Ozpin thought he saw something else in his eyes. It was a look he knew well, one that silently chipped away at his heart every time a new student showed it.

                “Is there something else on your mind, Mr. Emedio?” Ozpin asked, even though he already knew the answer.

                “I want to thank you, Headmaster,” Verris told him, starting to smile. “If you hadn’t done what you have, I’d still be back in Mistral…with her. So…just…thank you.”

                Ozpin’s smile faltered slightly as he thought about just how desperate the boy must have been when he sent that first letter to Beacon. The sheer terror such an act must have caused him…

                He didn’t say anything in response. Words could be so clumsy in matters such as this, so Ozpin simply nodded understandingly. Truth be told, the fact that Verris seemed to be far more like his father had been a relief. He had taught Aethyr himself, and her vengeful streak had been only the beginning of what Verris had apparently endured. But wonder of wonders, the boy was another soul saved, not another one lost to spite.

                _Maybe_ , Ozpin thought to himself as Verris saw himself out. _Maybe his team is exactly what the world needs._

_Perhaps Qrow could teach them, once they’re old enough to know…_

_Then again, Torstig’s old team could teach them just as well…_

_Slow down, Ozpin. That’s years down the line._

 

                “Three…two…one…begin!” Glynda announced, and the combat display flickered to life above the ring.

                Verris kept the point of his blade aimed straight at Pyrrha, mirroring her movements as the two circled each other at the edges of the ring. Her hoplite shield was raised before her, the spear at the ready to strike as it always was. The two of them had fought this battle four times before, and each time, she had won. But things were different this time. Verris could learn from her now, without anger or desperation.

                For a full minute, neither of them moved to attack. The class watched in silent anticipation; it wasn’t normal for a fight to go this long without some action, but Verris was patient. _Pyrrha never makes the first strike_ , he thought, keeping his breathing steady. _That’s how she wins. Just wait her out._

The two continued circling each other, and Verris saw one of Pyrrha’s eyes twitch slightly. She was getting anxious. No, she was growing impatient. He had always started previous fights with full-force, right out of the gate. Neither of them were used to waiting.

                Suddenly, Pyrrha stopped circling, and Verris froze in place. His blade hung in the air next to his head, point aimed straight at her. This was it. She was done waiting.

                Verris dropped his stance slightly lower, moving his back foot farther away for balance. She raised her shield and sprang forward like a bullet, straight at him.

                _Avoid the shield strike! She follows it up with her spear,_ Verris remembered, rolling to the side as Pyrrha’s shield bash went wide and collided with the combat ring’s barrier. She whirled around, and Verris squeezed the trigger on his blade as he swung it straight down towards her.

                The greatsword spouted flame from the vents along its length as it collided with her shield, producing a metallic clang on impact. The shield pushed upward, and Verris recognized the maneuver again.

                _Spear strike. You have armor, use it!_

                                Verris twirled his blade away from her and met the spear strike with one of the armor plates on his jacket’s arm, gritting his teeth as the impact shook him to his core. Still, the move worked, and he almost smiled; he’d never tried using anything but his semblance to tank blows like that before. The fight had just become a bit more even.

                The two of them leapt back from each other to regain balance, but Verris found himself a step behind Pyrrha. No sooner had she landed than her spear was transforming into a rifle, aiming for his head.

                _SHIT!_

He barely had time to activate his semblance when the shots were fired, glancing harmlessly off of his now iron skin. Still, the moment allowed her the opening she was looking for, and she was right back in Verris’ face with that spear…no, now it was definitely a gladius.

                Slash after slash chipped away at his semblance, clanging off of iron skin at such speed that he didn’t have a second to think. She was focusing every attack directly on his upper body…

                Verris pushed his arm against the last blow, forcing her off balance as he dropped to the ground and swept at her legs with a wide kick. The strike connected, knocking her to the ground for a split second as Verris immediately used the momentum to spin Vosgedge into an overhead slam.

                She somersaulted out of the way just in time for the sword to fracture the stone below, but now she was on the defensive. Verris had seen her fight so many times, and the only way to win was to be faster. Already, she was aiming another swing from the gladius at his side.

                Again, he caught the strike on his armor, simultaneously bringing Vosgedge around from the other side at her waist. The strike met her shield, and she flipped the gladius in her hand, transforming it back into a rifle.

                _Point blank, shit!_

                                The round struck against Verris’ gut, putting a small dent in his aura as he staggered back. He’d given her another opening and she knew it. Another swing from the gladius. Deflect with the sword this time. Use everything.

                _Block…no, parry! Open for an attack, feint to the left. Keep that shield out of the way!_

Verris’ thoughts all clouded into each other, a mess of planning and re-planning as fast as he could manage to keep up with Pyrrha’s rapid strikes. The way she moved was like her weapons were a part of her…

                _Oh, why not?_

                                Verris met her next strike head on, deflecting the spear with an iron hand before stepping into a wide, spinning slash. The move forced her back, but he kept going, stepping carefully into each turn as he kept the rapid dance of twirling fire and steel in motion. The strikes were all either missing the mark or glancing off of her shield, but she had no room to attack anymore.

                _Let the blade do the guiding…_

The fight suddenly clicked for Verris, and he surrendered himself to the weight of Vosgedge, allowing its momentum to guide him into each successive strike and parry. Spinning strikes became whirlwinds, deflections turned into upward launches and flips, everything followed the motion of the blade, heavy and unyielding.

                His strikes were connecting. He’d landed a solid hit on her! Two, then three. She knocked aside a horizontal slash, only for Verris to follow the change in motion to her other side. Four hits, five hits!

                Suddenly, Pyrrha wasn’t where he thought she was anymore, and his blade struck only the hard stone floor. A soft whirring noise drew close…

                _Uh oh._

Verris turned around just in time for Pyrrha’s flying shield to catch him right in the head, knocking his aura into the red, and him out of the match.

                Glynda stepped into the ring and ended the fight while Verris tried to shoo away the stars floating in his vision. There was a hand reaching down, and Pyrrha smiled apologetically back at him. “That looked like it hurt,” she told him. “I’m sorry.”

                Verris exhaled loudly, and let her help him to his feet as he got his bearings again. The score was now five to nothing, in her favor. Still, he didn’t feel the usual anger rising this time. Only adrenaline.

                “That was a lot more fun than I remember,” Verris joked, retrieving Vosgedge from the floor. “Even if you’ve got a bigger lead now. Well-fought.”

                “You’ve changed a lot since then,” Pyrrha replied, pointing to the combat display overhead. “I think you should take some pride in it.”

                Verris followed her hand to the screen, and his jaw dropped. Pyrrha had been within a single hit of her Aura reaching the red zone when he lost. He had actually been within a single strike of winning.

                “Oh,” Verris said bluntly. “Oh wow, that’s…that’s way better than I thought I was doing…just…wow.”

                He almost didn’t realize that Glynda was trying to get his attention through the fog of the moment; he had come _that close_ to winning a match against Pyrrha. All it had taken was…

                _Wait, how did I do that? What changed?_

_I’m no longer looking at the score. I want to change._

_Yeah, we’ll go with that._

“Mr. Emedio, please pay attention,” Glynda repeated herself for what might’ve been the third (was it the fourth?) time in a row. “I’d like you to turn your attention to the screen and tell me what you see.”

                The display overhead split down the middle, one side displaying Verris’ first combat match at Beacon, and the other side showing this last fight. The difference between the two was astounding, like Verris was an entirely different person.

                “What exactly are you asking me to point out?” he asked Glynda, keeping his eyes on the screen.

                “I want you to tell me what the improvement here is, from then to now,” she explained. “It shouldn’t be hard to spot.”

                The fight on the left side of the screen was in full swing, with Verris smashing and lunging into each attack regardless of resistance, but the one on the right had him on the defensive, tanking blows from Pyrrha behind his semblance.

                And then there it was, the moment everything had suddenly clicked into place; he forced Pyrrha’s weapon aside and spun through on the movement, never slowing his momentum for even a second. Each hint of resistance was guiding his next strike or dodge. Glynda looked at Verris expectantly.

                “Greatsword users often take a while to realize what you seem to have picked up here,” she said. “Can you tell me what that is?”

                “I’m letting the weight of the blade carry the fight, instead of forcing it to cooperate,” Verris said. “I save time I’d otherwise be wasting on trying to fight the momentum of each strike by just going with it.”

                “Excellent. That’s what I’ve been waiting to see here for a while,” Glynda agreed with a nod of approval. “You two are dismissed. The next fight will be between Ms. Adel and Mr. Daichi…”

                Verris left the room before the fight started, although he briefly heard the whine of a minigun spinning up (wait, was that Coco’s weapon?!) as the door closed behind him. He let out a deep sigh of exhaustion, and someone gave him a pat on the back.

                “Well fought, Verris,” Pyrrha said as she passed him, rolling one of her shoulder around. “I’d better start practicing harder if I want to keep my lead.”

                He smiled at the joke and nodded. “I’m telling you, it won’t be long before I catch up…hold on a second.”

                He reached into his pocket for his scroll and saw Eliza’s face on the screen, along with a “7 missed calls reminder”. His smile faltered for a moment as he answered the call.

                “Hey, it’s me. Just got out of my combat final...” he began.

                                “I can’t get a hold of Nero or Marcus!” she interrupted, clearly panicked. “They went out to do recon in North-Central City two hours ago, at the refinery, and they haven’t checked in for half an hour. Something’s wrong. Grab your gear and get ready to head out!”

                Verris’ ears flattened against his hair in dread. He was in absolutely no shape to keep fighting right now, but Eliza didn’t need to know that. If Nero and Marcus had missed a check-in, they were likely in trouble. Big trouble.

                “Alright, Eliza, I need you to meet me at the transit hub for Beacon ASAP,” he said, covering up his worry as best as he could. “I’ve still got everything I’ll need, so I’ll meet you there shortly. Just stay calm, we’ll figure this out.”

                She hung up without waiting for any further response, while Pyrrha just stared at Verris with clear concern. “Is everything okay?” she asked him.

                Verris shrugged as he started jogging down the hall towards the Beacon landing area. “Well…I’ll get back to you on that when I find out!” he called back to her. “Just a Venom issue, don’t sweat it. We’ll catch up later!”

 

**North-Central District, Beacon City**

**30 minutes ago…**

Roman Torchwick leaned forward on his cane, the cigar in his mouth the only reason his teeth weren’t grinding together in frustration already.

                He had expensive tastes in cigars; always imported, straight from Vacuo. Shredding through them would be in very poor form.

                He’d been in the middle of moving the base of Operations to the North, at the ruins of Mountain Glenn, when the perimeter patrol had reported signs of interlopers. Normally, he just had them drawn away with a carefully placed enforcer, but these two didn’t seem like they had arrived by accident. The patrol made very clear that these two were going out of their way to avoid being seen, and they were never far from the old Dust refinery they had stashed everything in.

                “They’re scouting the area,” Roman told Neo, who listened silently. “Someone must’ve ratted us out. They know what’s going on here.”

                He turned to his right-hand woman, or more appropriately, shifted his gaze down to her by a few feet. Despite her short stature, she was murder in a sealed, silent, and very stylish can, and he wouldn’t have anyone else in a trusted position like hers.

                “I want you to make your rounds to the big four info-brokers in the area,” he told her calmly. “I’ve paid each of them good money to keep attention off of us, and a bigger incentive to keep their mouths shut. One of them must’ve not gotten the message. You get where I’m going with this?”

                Neo’s smile grew nastily, and her hands danced in a flurry of signs that Roman had spent the last two years practicing. The message was clear: _I get to knock heads around until someone spills, yeah?_

                Roman laughed quietly, and nodded a bit before signing back, his own movements a bit slower and uncertain: _Don’t kill any of them, but use your best judgement. Don’t worry about these scouts, we can handle them from here._

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Right now, I need to know who I can still trust,” he explained. “We may still need one of them when the time comes. Okay?”

                Neo nodded with a smile, disappearing in what looked like fragments of glass into the air. And Roman sighed. He was always scared when he sent her off on a solo job. She could easily handle herself, that much was true, but there was always the possibility that someone would be stronger than her, and in their line of work, that only ever lead to one end result.

                “C’mon, Roman, she can take care of this,” he assured himself, taking a long puff of the cigar and letting the bitter flavor nip at his tongue before exhaling. “You know those guys. They’re all pushovers. Their enforcers can’t do anything to Neo.”

                _Yeah, she’ll be fine._

                “Now then, what to do about these wannabe ninjas?” he asked himself, before a smile crossed his face. “Eh, a couple aura-piercing rounds won’t be missed.”

                He picked up his radio. “Gamma group, how are you on ammo?” he asked.

                                There was a brief buzzing of static before the response. “We’ve got enough to pick off a small crowd at a couple hundred yards, Boss,” the operative replied. “Orders?”

                “Silence your rifles, and drop the intruders with tranqs as soon as you can. Iota group, move in to flank and secure. I want to know who these two are and how they found us.”

                “Understood, Boss. Waiting for Gamma’s signal.”

                                Seconds ticked by, and then…

                “Iota, move in now and secure. Bring the captives to the Boss.”

                                “You know, this is the kind of efficiency I like to see from my coworkers,” Roman congratulated them smugly, propping his feet up on the desk. “This is much better than the dock operation.”

                “Um, Boss? You’re not gonna believe this,” one of them said over the radio. “But…”

                                Roman’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, finally stubbing out his cigar. “This had better be good news, my friend,” he warned.

                “Well, it might be,” the operative responded. “The two we’ve just captured, they’re the pair that attacked us with the Lieutenant. We’ve got them, Boss.”

                Roman’s jaw dropped. Seriously, why was it always these fucking teenagers getting all up in his shit instead of actual law enforcement? This wasn’t a goddamn cartoon!

                “Oh for fu…just bring them to me, and don’t bother about being gentle,” he groaned. “A couple bruises won’t make much difference.

 

**North-Central District, Beacon City**

**Present Time…**

                Verris flashed his Academy ID at the Vale Officer with a restrained sigh, annoyed at the frequency with which law enforcement had been stopping him and Eliza on their way to their destination.

                “Am I free to go, Officer?” he asked, trying to sound patient, as the Officer grimaced a bit.

                                “Yeah, you’re all clear, kid,” she said flippantly, as if the whole thing had inconvenienced her more than anyone else. “We’ve seen a lot of armed crime recently, so we’ve gotta check anyone we see carrying a weapon openly. Sorry for the trouble.”

                Verris politely thanked the Officer as they left the two of them alone before Verris let out a frustrated growl, resuming his earlier pace towards the district’s center. Eliza stayed right at his side, her eyes flicking nervously from side to side, rooftop to rooftop and alley to alley. She had never fought anything outside of the school environments, especially not a murderous terrorist group bent on the mass slaughter of people like her. To be fair, Verris had never fought them either, but he couldn’t let her see just how scared he was too. He needed her to stay grounded…

                _She’s really good at that. Thank Dust._

“Eliza, you’re going to give yourself whiplash if you keep your head on the swivel like that,” Verris whispered. “We’re trying to look like we’re not expecting trouble, remember? Just keep your eyes up front.”

                “But what if they’re already watching us? I feel like we’re going to get jumped any second now,” she replied, her shield arm twitching nervously. “Verris, I’m the kind of person the White Fang wants dead. I don’t want to take chances.”

                “Which is why I need you to stay calm and be ready to grab your shield,” Verris explained. “Believe me, I’ll hear them coming. Leave the lookout stuff to me. I’ve got your back, okay?”

                Eliza took a few shaky breaths, and nodded, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead. “Okay. Sorry, I’ve never done anything like this before and this is really life or death and I’m scared that we should just call the cops…”

                “Eliza, breathe,” Verris interrupted as he heard the faint sound of concrete crumbling slightly under someone’s shoes from their left. “We’re both in uncharted territory, but if they’ve already been caught, then bringing in the cops will turn this into a hostage thing. We’ve got to do this alone.”

                “…I know.”

                                There it was again, that sound of someone following them to the left. No, they were on the rooftop. Suddenly, there was a glint of light from the Dust refinery ahead…

                _Glint…but we’re not movin…_

“ELIZA, SHIELD FRONT NOW!” Verris shouted, grabbing Vosgedge as he ducked low. “There’s a…”

                Eliza had already slammed her shield down in front of her by the time the sniper had fired, and the shot glanced loudly off of the metal surface with a distinct _ping!_ Immediately, Eliza hit the button on her gorget, and her helmet snapped into place around her head.

                “Get behind me, Verris!” she urged him as she backed up into a nearby alley. “Dust, that actually dented Lioncrest a bit! What kind of firepower are they packing?”

                Verris allowed himself a brief glance at the shield’s surface, now that they were out of the sniper’s line of sight. Given the density of the metal in Eliza’s shield, there was only one kind of round that could do that damage at range.

                “They’re using aura-piercers,” Verris explained. “It wasn’t a bullet; the impact is too small to be anything other than a tranquilizer shot. They don’t want to leave a trail of bodies.”

                                _And my aura’s only just getting back into the yellow by now_ , he thought.

                “Then where are Marcus and Ner…they’re in that refinery, aren’t they?” Eliza realized with a sigh.

                “Looks like it,” Verris agreed, as he peeked around the corner at the refinery. He could see the sniper more clearly now, but what drew his attention was the smattering of glittering particles on the dirt around the refinery, all in different, vibrant colors. _Dust particles_ , he realized, and he smiled. _This just got a bit easier._

                He ducked back around the corner as another shot _pinged_ off of the wall, and turned to Eliza. She was checking her shield frantically for further damage. “How many shots does that thing have in it?” he asked her, pointing to the trigger on the shield’s handle.

                “It’s fully loaded,” Eliza answered, thumbing a lever near the trigger anxiously. “They’re compact rockets, so I can fire about fifty or so shots before it runs out. Why?”

                Verris nodded thoughtfully, and pointed around the corner. “Keep your head down, and fire one at the ground near the base of the building,” he said. “Wait, first, fire one at the sniper. He’s on the third floor, second window from our right. Then aim for the ground and take cover, okay?”

                Eliza’s breathing grew intense, and Verris put a cautious hand on her arm. “Eliza, I’ve got your back. If anything goes wrong, you can count on me, okay?”

                Eliza nodded, and took a deep breath before whirling around the corner behind her shield, splitting the sides open to reveal the launcher inside of it. Shots pinged off of the metal harmlessly, and Eliza slammed down on the trigger, letting loose three shots straight towards the sniper’s location. The rockets collided with the building in massive blooms of fire and smoke, and the shots stopped coming at them. Then she turned her aim to the Dust-filled soil at the refinery’s base, and fired one more shot before ducking back around the corner.

                “Cover your ears!” Verris shouted, half a second before the rocket met its mark.

                                The rocket exploded right on target, triggering a chaotic chain reaction in the discarded but still volatile Dust fragments that littered the dirt nearby. Burn, Freeze, Bolt, and Earth crystals erupted in a discordant symphony of destruction like dominoes, lighting up the whole area around the refinery like dynamite. The wave of smoke rushed past them, and that was it. Dust and debris filled the air like a thick fog, and no shots were coming their way now.

                “What was that?” Eliza asked as she peeked around the corner again. “You could’ve warned me…”

                “Dust particles left in the soil from refining. It’s a big problem with Mistral factories,” Verris interrupted her. “We have to move on the building now, while we’ve still got cover.”

                Eliza nodded, and raised her shield in front of them as the two charged through the smoke towards the building. Verris found himself thankful for the fact that Dust fumes weren’t hazardous once activated, and got ready to tap back into his semblance as they pressed up against the concrete wall of the building.

                “So, how are we getting in?” Eliza asked, her voice echoing from inside the helmet. “Did you see a door nearby?”

                Verris took a couple steps back from the wall before activating his semblance, wrapping his skin in a layer of iron. “Funny you should mention that,” he said. “Stand back.”

                He charged straight at the wall…

 

                Roman caught his balance as another boom rocked the building, although it was significantly smaller than the last few. He was just about to start the interrogation when Gamma group had reported more intruders. That had been right before they shouted something about a rocket launcher, and then…

                He glared at the two captives in front of him. When Iota group had mentioned they were from the dock incident, he had expected the cat girl and her monkey friend, not these two. It had been such a letdown.

                _But they know those other two, I’ll bet…_

                                The interrogation would have to wait. It sounded (and felt) like someone was waging a full-scale war on the building. What kind of explosives did they have out there?

                One of the hostages started laughing; the Faunus kid on the right, the one with the knives. “Oh, man, you guys really fucked this one up,” he howled.

                “I’m sorry, but you seem to have forgotten that you’re stuck in this building too, fuzzbucket,” Roman reminded them in as condescending a tone as he could muster without actually dropping down and cooing out the words like a preschool teacher. “You’re in the line of fire now too, even if you somehow escape. How will they know that you’re not with us?”

                The radio in Roman’s pocket buzzed urgently, and he growled in annoyance. “Excuse me, Tweedle-twins,” he said in mock politeness before pulling out the radio. “This had better be good news, or I’m going to find you and ram this cane so far up your…”

                “They set off the Dust crystals, Boss!” the operative shouted urgently. “Everything in the ground just went off at the same time. We can’t see anything in…wait…waitwaitNOAAAAUGH!”

                The radio cut off, and Roman’s eye twitched in annoyance. “Useless fleabags…full offense, by the way,” he muttered before switching the channel. “What’s going on down there? I want a status report and a fucking visual right now!”

                “It’s just two people, Boss!” the new guy shouted over the sounds of gunfire. “I think they’re Hunters! We need to move now!”

                _ARE YOU KIDDING ME!_

“Well, kill them already and let’s move. We’ve gotta ditch this place before the cops show up, and I’m not waiting around for stragglers,” he demanded before smashing the radio underfoot. He wouldn’t need it anyway. He aimed the end of his cane at the Faunus kid, popping the crosshairs into view.

                “Well, I’d hate to be such a rude host,” he drawled with a nasty smirk. “But I am an incredibly rude host, so I’m not gonna sweat this.”

                He fired a round, only for it to disappear into the boy’s hands before coming barreling back at him from the kid’s feet, knocking him into the wall. They were loose now, and a pair of Hunters was tearing their way through the building. This was really bad. At this rate, he was going to have to ditch the entire Dust supply here and burn everything to the ground to keep Cinder off his back.

                “So, what was that comment about us Faunus?” the kid asked him, grabbing his daggers off of the table nearby. “Fleabags, right?”

                Roman gulped, and fled through the door, the two kids close behind him.

 

                “Yo, so are we gonna catch him or run?” Nero asked, gripping his daggers tightly as they raced through the winding refinery halls.

                “We run,” Marcus stated plainly, carrying Ascendant in a rifle grip as they took a left towards the sound of the fighting. “You heard how big that explosion was. If it wasn’t military, you can bet the cops are gonna be here soon and we’ll be right in the crossfire.”

                “We’re just gonna let Torchwick get away?”

                                “Yep.”

                Nero frowned. “I don’t like it, but fine,” he agreed. “So, how much you wanna bet Eliza and Verris are the ones bowing everything up?”

                “I only take bets when I know there’s another possibility, Nero, c’mon,” Marcus reminded him, clotheslining a White Fang soldier as they passed him. “Who else would it be?”

                “I hope your boss is ready to pay some medical bills!” a voice shouted from around the corner, as a burst of fire filled the hall. “Because this isn’t even the first can of whoop-ass in the six-pack!”

                “Definitely Eliza and Verris,” Nero said with a smile. “Let’s give them a hand, shall we?”

                                “Oh, absolutely.”

                Marcus was suddenly knocked off of his feet by a familiar wall of metal, and grinned as he saw Eliza offering to help him back to his feet. “Verris, I found them!” she shouted, twirling her shield to smack a nearby attacker through the opposing wall. “Let’s get out of here already!”

                “You two aren’t here on your own, right?” Nero asked them. “Like, you’ve got backup? Team Ruby, maybe?”

                Verris raced around the corner, pouring flames into the hall behind him as he did. “Backup? No, it’s just us. We needed to make sure you guys were okay.”

                “Neither of you have ever faced the White Fang before…”

                                “Can we argue this later? We need to move now!”

                Suddenly, another hole appeared in the side of the building, and sunlight was streaming in through the smoke. A massive crater surrounded the refinery from the building to the edge of the property, stopping just short of the surrounding buildings. Verris gestured dramatically to the opening. “I make one good doorman,” he joked. “Now let’s move!”

                The rest of them wasted no time leaving the building as the fires started to spread throughout the structure, and they raced towards the edge of the crater. Marcus simply looked around at the blast zone.

                “Dust almighty, what did you guys do?”

                                “Dust science,” Verris replied curtly. “Seriously, this whole place was on a makeshift minefield, I’m surprised they haven’t…”

                Verris’ reply was cut short as a bullet snapped through the top corner of his left ear, tearing it apart in a thin red spray. He screamed out in pain at the wound, and stumbled for a few steps.

                “VERRIS!” Eliza shouted, immediately putting herself between him and the refinery as she opened up the shield again and aimed straight for the exit that White Fang Soldiers were now absolutely pouring out of. “VERRIS, ARE YOU OKAY?”

                “It’s…Dust, damn it…it’s just my ear,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I’ll be okay. We need to get out of sight, now!”

                “How many aura-piercers do they have?” Nero asked, retrieving a glowing red vial from his pocket and flinging it at their attackers, where it exploded in flames.

                “That wasn’t an aura-piercer,” Verris corrected him. “I’m running on empty. Came straight here from the combat final.”

                “YOU WHAT?!” Nero screamed, as they retreated behind Eliza’s cover. “VERRIS, YOU SHOULD HAVE CALLED SOMEONE FOR HELP! GAH!”

                Meanwhile, rockets were streaming from Eliza’s shield in a nonstop salvo of destructive fury as she screamed obscenities and curses that made even Marcus blanch in shock. Bullets had stopped coming from the building altogether, yet she kept up the attack until she hit empty.

                “…absolute shit-sucking, spineless, cowards!” she shouted, finishing her most recent stream of slurs before she allowed the shield to close back up and helped her teammates to the edge of the crater…only to see Torchwick waiting for them with an armed escort.

                “What is it with you kids?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Seriously, did no one ever teach you to respect your elders?”

                The fighters at his side all raised their guns, and Verris was forced back behind his teammates. “You’ve all got three seconds to surrender. One. Two. Thr…”

                Nero sprayed a cloud of mixed Burn and Bolt dust into the air between them, sucking the matter into his hands before dousing their attackers in fire and lightning from his palms, scattering them like roaches. One of them attempted to stab Nero, only for Marcus to slam the side of his spear into his chest and Eliza to grab the attacker in one hand, by his face.

                “Night-night, shitstain,” she growled, before flinging him into the pavement at their feet like a ragdoll. The concrete dented somewhat, and the fighter let out a long, pained wheeze.

                “Where’s Torchwick?” Verris asked, looking around. “I didn’t see where he ran off to…”

                                Marcus simply raised an eyebrow and pointed to the sky, where a VTOL was taking flight with Roman watching from the bay, a single finger raised at them as he fled. Eliza returned the response in kind, right as flashing red and blue lights came into view.

                “Everyone, drop your weapons now, and put your hands where we can see them!” a voice ordered over one of the loudspeakers. “Wait a minute…all units, there is a White Fang presence in the area. We have wounded civilians. Spread out and secure the area!”

                “Guess we could’ve just called the cops anyway, huh?” Verris joked, casting a smile at Eliza as she rolled her eyes.

 

**Headmaster Ozpin’s Office**

**Six hours later…**

“So, you all mean to tell me that you found a piece of evidence that clued you in on the White Fang’s whereabouts over a week ago,” Ozpin asked carefully.

                “That was us,” Marcus corrected. “Nero and I…we were at the docks that night, looking for Blake. Verris and Eliza had nothing to do with that.”

                “And instead of reporting this to the authorities, you kept it a secret?”

                                “We didn’t think it’d be smart for a Faunus to show up to the cops with White Fang intel,” Nero spoke up. “I know how that ends.”

                Ozpin nodded understandingly, but ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “What about one of us? Do you think we would have presented the same problem?”

                “No.”

                                “Not really.”

                “No, Headmaster.”

                                “I wasn’t sure,” Nero told him, his arms crossed. “To be fair, after the Cardin issue, I wasn’t sure you were a safe person to talk to about things like this.”

                Everyone at the table, Ozpin included, winced at that. “I’m sorry that I gave you that impression, Mr. Boudica, but I assure you that the safety of my students is my primary concern. To be perfectly clear, I’m more angry that you all decided together that planning to handle such a crisis yourself was better than asking for help. You’re lucky, extremely so, that none of you were killed today,” he told them, his voice stern. “And even with that luck, one of you still was notably injured in the process.”

                “It’s nothing, Headmaster,” Verris told him, although he was doing a lot to conceal just how much pain was emanating from his left ear where it was bandaged. “We’re all safe, that was our concern.”

                “And aren’t Hunters supposed to protect people from the bad guys?” Marcus spoke up. “The White Fang was just sitting there, getting ready for whatever is planned next, and no one was doing anything about it.”

                Ozpin paused, and felt a smile coming on in spite of himself. “Well, in a way that’s true, Mr. Avalok,” he conceded. “Hunters are meant to keep the peace and protect the common people. But there are years of training needed before you are ready, and even then, confronting a group like the White Fang on your own, with no back up, is dangerous.”

                He sighed and leaned back in his chair, setting out a bowl of lemon drops on the desk which Nero immediately lunged after like a hungry shark. “What happened today could have been prevented, and by rights, should have been prevented,” he began. “However, you did manage to disrupt dangerous criminal activity and lead the police to arrest multiple wanted terrorists, with minimal collateral damage. The refinery has been burned to the ground, of course, but no one owned the property, so that’s a moot point.”

                “So what happens to the two of us?” Nero asked, pointing to Marcus and himself. “I feel like we’re not just gonna get off easy with this one.”

                Verris and Eliza sat up a little straighter in surprise. “Um, excuse me? We were in this together,” Verris insisted. “We’re not going to duck blame and let you guys take the fall.”

                “I’m the one who put together that armor for you two specifically for this purpose,” Eliza reminded them. “If that doesn’t make me guilty too, then none of us are.”

                Ozpin hid his smile behind his mug of coffee, taking a small sip. “Well, it seems that this was a team effort, so it’s only fair that you all have to make up for this issue in some part,” he said. “Consider my response lenient for now, given the fact that you were firing your weapons in the city, albeit a relatively deserted one.”

                He paused, taking another loud sip of coffee before making his decision. “I’m setting a curfew for your team for the next month,” he said. “All four of you are to be in your dorm room by no later than six in the evening each day, and you are also forbidden to leave the school grounds without permission. You’ll also have to check in with a designated staff member every thirty minutes if you do leave school grounds. Am I understood?”

                The four of them all nodded insistently, and Ozpin smiled. “Well, if that’s the case, then you’d best get back to your dorm now. Rest well, and please, allow yourselves to relax.”

                The students filed out, and Ozpin let out a loud sigh. Between Team Ruby and Team Venom, he was strongly considering introducing a school rule concerning vigilante justice by students, something he never would have expected to be necessary years ago.

                Glynda had been right about Team Venom, in a way. They were a loose cannon, collectively, and required closer observation. Still, with all said and done, their first semester had only helped the Team grow closer from what he could tell, and that was enough to alleviate the majority of his concerns.

                A ringing noise came from his desktop display; Agent Branwen was calling. He frowned, and answered the call.

                “I’m listening, Qrow,” he said clearly, thankful that he hadn’t called while the students were present. “Do you have something to report?”

                “Oz…” came the reply, a drunken slur still detectable through the heavy voice filter. “It’s bad out here. Really bad. Queen is getting ready for something big…”

 

 

               

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Took me over two years of planning and around three months of actually writing, but Volume One of VENM is complete! Look for future installments in the series when I start posting Volume 2! And after the obligatory after-credits scene, stick around for a treat.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> -Diomedes of Anima.


	16. Epilogue: The Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aethyr is approached by a sinister woman in red, offering her a deal that she has very little choice in accepting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Abuse, Strong Language, Borderline Torture(?), Aethyr the Huge 8itch 8luh 8luh.

                Aethyr Emedio reeled in her wrist-mounted flail angrily, snarling as she brought another target onto the range with the press of a button. That little brat…all this time, he had been plotting behind her back, gearing up to sneak away like the ungrateful rat he was to Ozpin.

                _Ozpin_ , she thought with an angry snort. _Of course that weak-willed old man took him in. How dare he meddle in MY family affairs._

She spun on her heel, allowing Shattered Earth to uncoil from her wrist and tear through the target dummy, flinging it against the wall like a wet paper towel. She needed more. She had nothing to vent on anymore, now that the boy was gone.

                “That little shit lives under my roof, enjoys my generosity, and he discards it all with a goddamn SMILE!” she roared, smashing the flail down into the floor next to her, splintering the boards (they’d repair themselves when she left). “Oh, he’d better not be attached to that other leg of his, because I am going to…”

                “Going to do what?” a cold, sultry voice interrupted from the shadows of the practice yard, causing Aethyr to whip around in surprise. “I’m curious. What more could you do to the boy than has been done?”

                “Come out where I can see you, you sneak,” Aethyr demanded, blowing the half of her hair that wasn’t shaved off out of her eyes. “I am not a patient woman.”

                There was a laugh; long, low, and distinctly female. “Neither am I, Aethyr Emedio,” came the response, as a woman with raven-black hair and gleaming yellow eyes stepped out into the light.

                She was adorned an a low-cut red dress, with intricate gold trim framing the whole piece. Her obsidian-black heels clicked menacingly across the floor with each step, and for a moment, Aethyr felt a small shudder at the base of her spine from the mere way this woman carried herself.

                “Ozpin has taken something of yours, hasn’t he?” she asked, her voice sounding like the slow slip of a knife between a lover’s ribs. “He’s stolen from you, and you can’t stand it anymore, can you?”

                “Who are you?” Aethyr asked, rattling Shattered Earth’s chain threateningly. “Answer me now, or I’ll crush you next.”

                The woman did not respond, and Aethyr smirked wickedly. She tapped into her semblance, and repeated herself in a demonically-warped voice: “TELL ME YOUR NAME, NOW!”

                A dark purple glow surrounded Cinder for a moment, and she looked like she was going to be sick. Aethyr smiled; no one could resist her semblance, Fear. This woman would have no choice but to obey her or flee now…

                And she did neither. There was a flash of flame from the woman’s left eye, and the glow of Aethyr’s semblance shattered in an instant. Her guest glared at her in contempt, before she summoned a white-hot ball of flame to her palms.

                “Try another stunt like that, and I will be able to fit what ashes are left of you into a cereal bowl,” she threatened, and Aethyr knew this wasn’t an empty threat. “My name, if you must know, is Cinder, Cinder Fall, and I do not take kindly to rudeness.”

                Aethyr tightened her grip on the chain, ready to attack if need be. “What do you want?” she asked. “You didn’t come here just to talk, it sounds like.”

                Cinder smirked, and the flames disappeared. “Perceptive, aren’t you,” she crooned mockingly. “I want the same thing you do. I want to take back something Ozpin has stolen from me, and I’m not picky about how to I do it.”

                “Are you saying…”

                                “I can get your son back into your possession, Aethyr. It’ll be easy,” Cinder answered, and the arrogance in her voice was almost too much for Aethyr to hear. “But you have to help me get something I want first.”

                “And what’s that?” Aethyr asked, reeling in the flail. “I don’t do favors I don’t care for.”

                                “Look at it this way, Aethyr dear,” Cinder said, sauntering closer with no less malice in her attitude. “I’m the only guarantee you have of getting your son back to you. You can’t risk an international incident, but I can get around that problem. If you want my help, which you need, you’ll just have to accept a few facts…”

                “Which are?”

                                “You’ll know what you need to when you need to know it,” Cinder said, slipping a hand onto Aethyr’s shoulder. “And secondly…”

                A white-hot pain coursed through Aethyr’s shoulder, and she felt her skin smoulder for a brief second before Cinder removed her hand. “Your cooperation is not up to you. I’m not asking. Am I clear?”

                Aethyr looked up into Cinder’s eyes and realized two things. The first, that Cinder was not only far more powerful than herself, she was accustomed to killing, and she would easily kill her without a second thought.

                Secondly, this woman was offering her a chance to take back what was stolen from her. Her son. Her property. Her possession.

                She was not going to get a better deal, and if she refused, she wouldn’t get much of anything in the future. So she swallowed her pride, and nodded to Cinder.

                “Swear your allegiance, Huntress,” Cinder hissed, her eyes filled with the glee of one knows the power they have over others. “Swear your allegiance to me, now.”

                “On my oath as a Huntress,” Aethyr forced out, her teeth clenched. “I swear my loyalty and service to you, Cinder Fall, and no one else.”

                A light chuckle came from Cinder. “Excellent. We’ll be in touch shortly. Do not forget your promise. I certainly won’t.”

 

**END OF VOLUME ONE OF VENM**


End file.
